Growing Up And Away
by Raven-Rach
Summary: Forever? That didn’t happen, forever and togetherness didn’t last. We all started to drift away, lured by familial bliss. Then she left. The last to leave. The one we thought would always be there- the one we needed the most, biological families or not.
1. Forever Doesn't Always Last

**Another fic that is years old that needs a lot of reworking, rewriting and lengthening! But I'll do what I can with it. As I explained in Never Forgive Me, I tend to really like one particular theme or idea in a book- in Maximum Ride it has always been the notion of Max loving the Flock so much that she leaves them, usually because she has found their families for them. I know a lot of people don't like this idea, but I'll post it anyway. I was going to write a Christmassy oneshot but I had visitors so I never got around to it =P **

**Happy Christmas everyone!! Enjoy it!! =]**

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**~Fang POV~  
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I pulled my curtains fully open with my daily flourish. This was my nightly ritual. Every night before bed I have to do this: pull the curtains open and leave them like that. It's dark yet clear outside, no clouds and a bright moon. Beautiful silver stars and the hoot of an owl in the deserted skies. A perfect night for flying, but I didn't really do that anymore. Not since... well, not since. Full stop, no more, end of sentence, case closed.

There is no more Flock. What a shock. We were meant to last forever, we were meant to save the world and live in bliss in an isolated island of perfection. That didn't happen, forever and togetherness didn't last. We all started to drift away, lured by the tempts of familial bliss. Then she went. The last to leave. The one we thought would always be there- the one we needed the most, biological families or not. You can't function without a Leader and the void left by ours was far too great to fill. Without her there didn't seem to be a point- she was our spirit.

Maximum Ride.

She left.

Left for the usual noble reasons that seemed to captivate her mind. Her selfless thoughts that made her do stupid things. She wanted us to be happy with our biological parents and have normal lives. She worked endlessly for longer than I would care to think about to find them… and when she did- after checking them out rigorously- she left us to get on with being happy. But what about her happiness? And why did we deserve it when she was alone? We didn't. That was the answer. The cruel blow of truth- she was much more deserving then us. Especially me. Because it was my fault this had happened. It was my job to look after her, my duty and my self-designated role. I was supposed to protect her. How could I do that when I didn't even know where she was?

I missed her more then I thought was possible and I cursed myself everyday for not realising how she felt and what she was thinking. I knew her better then anyone else and I just stood by as heart was torn apart by each joyful reunion followed by willing departure. Departure from Max. But the tumultuous, bubbling emotions of my reunion were too great, and I let myself ignore her. Ignore the way she felt beneath every cheery lie- she would never let us think that she was unhappy. I allowed her to fool me and I paid no attention to each careful smile.

Very careful smiles on her behalf. So carefully orchestrated that I wondered now, as I looked back, if she had practised them in a mirror while we lapped up the attentions of our spoiling so called families. They were fake smiles masking unbelievable pain. We were her everything: Max was a Mother, a Leader, a Best Friend and Protector... yet we just let her go. Just like that- let her walk on out, let her be alone and let her be heartbroken without us. Probably just as heartbroken as I was. As I am.

Sometimes at night, I think I hear the almost inaudible sound of large wings. Larger then any bird, hovering gracefully beyond my window. A sound I was used to- as familiar to me as the sound of my own breathing. A sound I craved.

Every time I started to think I could hear it, I used to scream for her- shouting her name to the seemingly empty skies to no avail... Never to any avail, I only ever got greeted with resounding silence. It began to seem like I had only ever imagined the tiny noise that seemed so real… but even still, I sleep with the curtains open.

Clinging to hope. Maybe she will see my open curtains and know it's all for her, maybe it will let her know I miss her too much to be without, maybe it will convince her to come back to me. I leave my curtains open while she plagues my dreams. Dreams are all I have left of her now. Hope is all I can cling to.


	2. Just A Pen and Some Paper

**Merry Christmas!!! _(Skye, I_****_ maintain that Happy Christmas is also a suitable greeting_!!) Thank you so much for the reviews! I hope you are all enjoying the holidays- I'm currently overdosing on chocolate and my sister just managed to splatter an entire tube of black paint from her new set on our cream walls so it's lots of fun so far lol!!**

**Enjoy the holidays, Merry Christmas everybody xxx**

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**~Max POV~**

My name is Maximum Ride. Yes, _**the**_ Maximum Ride. The winged hero herself, the one who saves the world. Tall, blonde, has wings- yeah, that's me. Once again I have turned to writing, just like all those years ago. Things are different now though- this is not a book or novel, it will not be seen by others.

This is private.

A diary reminds me of insecure, giggling adolescents mooning over muscled jocks in high school. A journal brings an English class to mind, and a log makes me think of sailors. So, this is just paper, this is just a pen and these are just my thoughts. That's all. This is for no one to read but me, it's my outlet for my thoughts. It's the only outlet I have now that I am on my own, you have to talk to someone- even if it's only yourself through the medium of a pen and a simple piece of paper.

There is no more Flock by the way. I let them go. I'm pretty sure nobody ever saw that coming. Weren't we supposed to be together for ever? For ever and ever and ever. Wasn't that the way it was meant to plan out? I guess life doesn't follow the rules. It just isn't subjected to the bounds and limits that we are. There are no certainties, anything can happen and there's not much we can do about it. And anyway, it was my choice to let them go. No one made me do it- I just knew it was right. What is right does not always feel right however.

So why did I do it? Why did I let them go? There are a lot of reasons, mainly they just plain deserve better. Better- as in normalcy and comfort; a bed instead of a cave; secure living instead of the constant threat of death; and a family instead of a paranoid teenage girl with a voice in her head. All in all, there are some things I can't give them- a normal life for example or the strength and bond of a blood relationship. So I found their parents and left them.

It is my own fault that I am sitting in this motel on my own with nothing but my memories and my inky pen. A stupid inky pen that scratches across the lined paper in my leather bound notebook. It was me who found their parents, even though each time I watched one of them leave it tore my heart to shreds. Horrible, irreparable wounds that by some cruel fate were never healed just salted over and over and over again. Just like forever doesn't always last, not all pain heals in time- especially when you know it's self-inflicted.

When Iggy left all those years ago, I felt like my heart was being stampeded on by a troop of soccer players in cleats… but that was nothing compared to how it felt when it happened five times in a row. There are only five people in the entire world that I care about and trust. The only five people in the entire wide world that I love completely. They weren't just friends- they are family. But compared to the families they have now, I am severely lacking. I can't give them everything they deserve and they deserve so much more then what I can give them.

If you love something they say you should let it go, and yet I can't even do that for them. Not fully. Not completely.

Nearly every night I swoop around houses where winged children sleep. In the dead of night in pure darkness with headphones clamped to my ears blocking out sound. I tell myself every morning that I won't do it again- that I should just sever the ties and let them go completely. I tell myself at dawn that I should just let them live, let them be happy. But it is so much harder then I convince myself it will be after I have seen them. I can only ever tell myself after I have seen them because that's when I feel safe. I feel safe because I know they are safe. Once I see them I can rest assured for those precious seconds that they are safe and happy. For those precious fleeting seconds that they are in my sight and the pounding anxiety in my chest calms down. The constant anxiety that never goes away but fades infinitesimally when I see their faces. They lie in bed, safe in the confines of their happy dreams about their happy lives. Sometimes it's just a prolonged glimpse through a crack in their drawn curtains. Sometimes I can look through an open window and see their hair resting on a pillow and amaze at how much better it looks there then it ever did on a dusty forest floor. A prolonged gaze at what I don't have anymore, but it's enough.

I miss them.

I need them.

I need to let them go.

I feel alone. Through my own fault. As per usual.

I am Maximum Ride, and I am alone.


	3. Lies

**Chapter 3 is here! Thank you all so much for all your reviews! I'm kind of shocked that people like it so much! This will be much shorter than Never Forgive Me- it currently stands at twelve chapters shorter, but I'm going to add chapters as I go along as part of my big editing job lol, so we'll see! Also, there will be a piece of the plot which will be very significant and I am slightly worried as to how you guys will react to it... it has been done many many many times before on this site and almost every time it has been highly criticised and often hated (and rightly so, judging by most of the attempts!) So, yeah... I just hope you guys don't start a lynch mob because of it!! But this plotline won't occur until the very end so don't worry for now! =P**

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews, I hope you like this! Let me know what you think =] x**

**-Raven out**

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~**Max POV**~

When I first decided to leave the Flock, I knew I would need to give them a good story. I knew- beyond any shadow of a doubt- that they loved me, and even though they didn't need me, they wouldn't want to let me go. But if they thought that I would be happy too, like them, then they would have no choice but to let me leave. So I came up with the simplest story available. The easiest to believe, because they would _want_ to believe it.

I told them I was going to live with Dr. Martinez and Ella. I told the Flock that they could see me whenever they wanted to. I told them that it was what I wanted, and I told them that I was going to be happy.

I told lies.

I was getting very good at that. Lying, I mean. I was an expert at it- I was a Master of Deceit. Not only in what I said, but in the way I had smiled at them; the way I had looked at them with fake cheeriness; and the way I had acted so happy for them when they left me. I deserved a freaking Oscar for all the lies I had perpetrated in their company. I really did: because no one suspected a thing… not even Fang. And he knew me better than I knew myself most of the time. I guess they were all changing, and I was changing right alongside them. Until I left, now I was changing in some faraway town- not beside them at all.

I could have gone there. I could have gone to Chez Martinez if I wanted. I was more than welcome- they were family after all, Mom and Ella, and they did love me. They didn't really _know_ me completely, but they did love me. It wasn't as strong as the love I have for the Flock or the love that they had for me, but I doubted that anything could really be as strong as that. I would die for them, I was going through this dreadful separation for them, I would do anything.

The most Dr. Martinez could do for me was bake me a daily batch of cookies- not they weren't little pieces of chocolaty heaven, but still. So I reasoned that I was as well to take the band-aid approach: when you're going through pain it's better to take it all at once, even if it stings like a stab wound soaked in vinegar and salt afterwards. Like a band-aid. Just rip it off. Get it all over at once.

So I knew that I had to get rid of the past all at once. Which was a lot harder then pulling off a band-aid as it turns out. In fact, I couldn't even do it- not properly. They still kept pulling me back to them, drawing me in over and over again. It was as if we were all joined together by some kind of invisible spider web, connected by a deep bond; a skein of love that let me go so far only to drag me back to them. I couldn't ignore it, when I felt that pull I had to take to the skies. I always ended up outside their windows, just to look at them. It was like a drug: one glance would tide me over until the next fix, it would make me feel safer for a few seconds and that was all I needed. So, yeah, I guess the band-aid approach had only worked a little. I wasn't strong enough to enforce it wholly. The stinging seemed to only get worse as time went on. Someone was dousing my wounds with liberal amounts of salt, or vinegar, or sulphuric acid- something horrible at any rate. It never got better. Or at least, it hadn't gotten any better yet. Although my belief in 'time heals all wounds' was very weak and getting weaker every day.

Anyway, normality didn't suit me. Which leads me to another vital reason as to why I didn't stay with Mom and Ella. I would have felt claustrophobic and trapped after one week, I knew I would. Once you've saved the world, fought for your life nearly every day and can fly; learning irregular verbs in school just seems pointless. Normality and Maximum Ride don't mix. So why should I bother to even try it? It would have meant failure, and I don't like failure. I was not designed or built for failure- I was made to make others fail.

I live alone now- me, myself and I. Home is wherever I rest my head for the night. It suits me- just like living in a permanent home with a happy little family suits the Flock. I never stay anywhere for too long- paranoia dies hard, and mine was still clinging to life. Houses are too big and empty, so I move from apartment to apartment in cheap motels, flying from one desolate place to the next. Even those tiny rooms seem too big when you're used to sharing the way we did. I have this pen and notebook though, I suppose that's something.

Man, that sounds sad. Sad and pathetic. Even Fang would have trouble stifling his laughter at that one. It wouldn't be the only pathetic act I indulge in however. Every once in a while I sleep in caves just to relive the old days. But it isn't the same, I wasn't alone then. Back in the old days.

The days before I lied to my Flock and left them behind with their entire lives stretched out ahead of them. The days went I was Max, Leader of The Flock- I guess that role has fallen to Fang now. He thinks he can't carry it off, but I know he can. Fang is my Second in Command for a reason, I know he will take care of them. They will be safe- safer than when I was in control… but I still can't let them go. I lie, I say that I check on them to make sure they are safe- but I _know_ they are safe, my visits are just for my own peace of mind.

So here I am, introducing Maximum Ride- Master of Deceit and Liar Extraordinaire. I should get that put on a business card along with Hero and Deserter.

I lied to the Flock, and I lie to myself every day trying to convince myself that I'm okay.


	4. The Grand Goodbye and The Constant Lie

**First off- thank you so much for the reviews! Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing, I hope you like so far! Secondly- I do not own Maximum Ride by James Patterson and I do not own You Could Be Happy by Snow Patrol. Well, Here is Chapter 4!**

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**~Fang POV~**

I see her everywhere, even though I haven't seen her in so very long. I see her face in films, in music, peering over my shoulder in the mirror, in my mind, everywhere. Max is too amazing to forget. The Unforgettable, Indescribable Maximum Ride. I can never get her out of my head, she's there when I wake; she's there when I sleep; she is there every moment of every day… but she isn't there at all. The last time I saw her was the day she left. That day moved so fast that I took no heed of anything that happened, until afterwards. Now I can recall every single second of it and I remember it every day.

The day Max left. The day she pushed me into my house to meet my mother, her husband and my sister Kate. It wasn't _my_ house then, it was their's. It still doesn't feel like mine if I'm being honest with myself. Max had researched them, with the same determination as she had with everybody else's families. Every detail of their lives was laid out in front of her and she knew more about our parents then we ever would. After what happened to Iggy the first time around, she was extra careful. Max would meet them before we did, she would judge them and if she thought they were good enough, then… then she would let us go.

It all went so fast, a million moments melted into one big, excited frenzy. But now I can remember it all. I can analyse it all with the benefit of hindsight, and it makes me realise how goddamn blind I truly was. Max walked through the unfamiliar white door behind me, the same door I walk through every single day. The only words she spoke were the expected, customary greetings to my family, she smiled at me (fakely) and stared at the floor. She drank one glass of water and stayed more silent then me. She didn't even want to be there- I wasn't like the others, she trusted me to handle this transition alone- but I had asked her, I had cajoled, pleaded and begged. So she came with me, to figuratively hold my hand and comfort me while I ripped her heart apart. Then we went outside. It was time for her to leave and for me to stay.I was happy. I remember that. I was really happy, and Max grinned. It was only afterwards that I realised that grin, like so many of her others, didn't reach her eyes. We stood on the damp grass and I remember placing my hands on her forearms as I grinned. We all had families now, we were all going to be happy. Our fairytale ending. We deserved it, especially Max.

"_I'll be at Ella's, okay? Give me a call." _Those were the last words I heard my Max say to me. She said them as I held her arms and showed her how happy I was. I stupidly showed her how happy I could be without her. She pulled me into a hug, wrapping her arms around my neck and holding me close. Really close and really tight, as if she were afraid I would disappear. It was goodbye- not for a while, but for forever. I didn't realise that then. I just thought she was happy too. As the wind ruffled our hair, I felt her lips pressing to my cheek. Her lips lingered on my skin as seconds ticked by. I could smell the scent of fruity shampoo in her hair and I inhaled its strong perfume. Her wings snapped out magnificently as she turned fleetingly to see my face, and then she flew away. Flying away from me in a picture of blonde sunlit beauty that took my breath away.

That was it, the grand goodbye. I didn't even know that it was goodbye. That's how stupid, dense, deaf, dumb and blind I was. Later on, I found a letter in my backpack. A vanilla envelope marked with Maximum Ride's distinctive scrawl. It was addressed- _Fang, open with the Flock._

So I called them in my confusion. The next day, Iggy, Nudge, Angel and Gazzy arrived on my doorstep- identical letters in hand. Even then, I didn't begin to worry. Max was mysterious and I presumed it was something to do with our new families. Something trivial, and I almost got angry because she wasn't there to tell us the news herself. What a selfish, idiotic fool I was.

_Dear Flock, _

_I've sent you all the same letter in case one of you birdbrains(!) loses it. I hope you are all together like I asked. I love you all so much. More then you will ever know. I want you to enjoy your new lives and be happy. Truly happy. You have a chance at a good life now so take that chance. Embrace it, and show them all how amazing I know you all are. Please take care of each other and be safe. Enjoy life and be happy, and always know how much I care for you. _

_I love you. I really do- so so much._

_Max_

There was five thousand bucks in each envelope. It was the sense of finality in her words that made me realise. That horrible sense of crushing realisation crashing down on my shoulders. So heavy with implications that it nearly pushed me to my knees. I rang Valencia Martinez immediately. I remember my fingers frantically punching numbers into a tiny mobile phone. She answered on the fifth ring. She told us that Max never turned up and had made no plans to do so. Max was not there, Max would not be there, Max was gone.I threw the phone to the ground. It smashed into little silver and black shards. My eyes went wide and my breath died in my chest. I struggled to breathe and fought to stay in control… but I couldn't. I smashed my fists into a fir tree, my skin tearing on the rough, bloodstained bark. Again and again and again. The pain tore through my hands, and all I could think was that this pain wasn't enough. I should have realised and I should have known. It was my duty to realise, it was my job to know- and I didn't. I deserved to be punished. Yet I knew that no one would punish me except myself, and that no punishment would hurt as much as the loss of her.

Splinters of wood clung to the bloody mess of my knuckles and my eyes squeezed tightly shut as I felt the ghost of her lips on my cheek. Her voice echoed in her head and the celestial image of her soaring into the sunlight blinded my eyes from the inside. I should have known. I wasn't in control of anything anymore, in a haze my fists just kept crashing into the stupid tree. Iggy yanked me back as rivers of tears streamed down my face and stung my wounded hands.

It was the first time they saw me cry.

The Flock stopped me when I told them I was leaving to find her. It was the first thing I wanted to do. With nothing but the shirt on my back I was prepared to launch myself into the sky right then and there.

I never would have found her though, the Flock forced me into accepting the truth. Max never stayed anywhere long- her paranoia wouldn't let her. She had over a days head start- and when Max didn't want to be found, it would be near impossible to find her. Yet every girl I see, I have to look at twice to see if it's her. I hate music because every song reminds me of Max. The worst at the moment is the album Kate got me for my birthday. Snow Patrol. There were so many songs but this one song hit home more then any other. "You could be happy". The instruments reminded me of the music box Max used to own, tinkling out its own little tune. The lyrics of that tune were cruel blows to me. It was as if I became the fir tree and someone else kept hitting me over and over.

_You could be happy _

_and I won't know, _

_but you weren't happy the day I watched you go.... _

_I should have stopped you from walking out that door. _

_You could be happy, _

_I hope you are. _

_You made me happier then I'd been by far."_

The thing was, though, Max couldn't be happy without us and I knew that. We were close- I was her right-hand-man, her Second in Command and her designated shoulder to lean on. She was my Leader, more importantly she was my best friend. And she needed the Flock. She needed her family. But we left her. She didn't really leave us, not until after we left her. We left her behind when we got caught up in our own little bubble of familial bliss.

But I wasn't living in a little bubble of bliss. I didn't want to live here. It was where I had last seen Max and it was laced with reminders. Reminders of her, reminders of why she wasn't with me and reminders of who she thought I was. I really didn't like being part of this family of mine. Mom, Dad, Kate- heck, they were nice and I loved them… but they were no Max. Their way of life didn't suit me- it was too normal, too mundane, too different. All I wanted was the old days. I stayed with them though, just in case Max wanted to find me. In case she came back to me, my house would be the first place she searched. I couldn't leave. I was clinging to hope.

There was no way Max was going to be happy without us, I knew it deep down. I knew, because I couldn't be happy without her. That stupid song made me want to either punch something, cry millions of salty tears, roar her name to the heavens or fly around the world till I found her. Most songs did. I wanted her back, I needed her with me. The real her, not just the shadowy ghost of her memory that haunted me always. I needed her.

And I try to tell myself I don't love her...

I guess we all need to lie to ourselves sometimes.


	5. Admission

**Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Here is chapter 5- I have just finished number 6 so that will be up tomorrow. I like how chapter 6 came out, definitely prefer it to this one- we'll see what you think tomorrow lol!**

**MaxWannaBe- thank you so much for your reviews! I was incredibly honoured by your praise! To answer your question, yes I have written a lot of poetry but for some reason I find it to be much more personal then writing, and as such no one has ever read any of it lol! And I loved your phonetical french =P I have never heard of Declan but I will look him up asap.**

**Hope you all enjoy this! Let me know what you think =]**

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**~ Max POV~**

Sometimes when I'm walking in a crowd or sitting in a park, I like to watch people. Not in a creepy way, or anything. I just like to see all the expressions on their faces and the stories they tell in their actions. Fang used to do that, just sit and watch. He was an expert at it- a real master. He was like a meditative Zen monk sometimes: no words, he just soaked up everything around him: the atmosphere, the way people felt, everything. He simply sat back, watched, observed and analysed. I could always feel his eyes boring into my back like red-hot laser beams, I never knew why he did it but now I get it. It's interesting to just take some time to zone out and observe. Just to sit and watch the lives that other people have. There are so many insights you get just from watching how people act and behave.

Sometimes I even make up little stories about them. A harried looking woman in the supermarket is frustrated because she has a date and doesn't know which kind of microwaveable dinner will taste better. The angry-looking boy at the checkout is in such a foul mood because his best friend had a fight with him. And the girl that looks like she is going to cry, she is sad because she is alone. Her best friends are gone, she has no family and she doesn't know how to function. I want to say something to help, but I can't… because I don't want to be caught talking to myself. My stupid reflection in a fogged up pane of glass where all the ice-cream lies.

I see children and teenage groups of friends laughing and joking… and it hurts. They look so happy and normal. Like they just leapt off the set of a high-budget, stereotypical TV set. I smile secretly as I watch them fooling about with such carefree ease, and then the sadness kicks in.

That is the Flock now.

The Flock without me.

The Flock being normal.

I never would have been able to live up to the expectations of normalcy… heck, I don't even know what the word means. Normal- I looked it up in a dictionary once. I found a lot of definitions, but only two that were relevant:

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1. usual: conforming to the usual standard, type, or custom

2. healthy: physically, mentally, and emotionally healthy

Conforming isn't something I do very well, I have wings for crying out loud! How could I possibly conform with the _usual, standard _people? I couldn't, that's how. And as far as health is concerned- well, come on, I used to have a voice in my head that told me to save the freaking world! Clearly there is something _mentally _wrong there. I was just as unstable _emotionally_, the scar on my arm reminded me of that. What kind of emotionally normal person would have a major freak-out and try to splice themselves open with a seashell?!

Normal was not me. I wouldn't have been able to cope with the constraints society would place on me. School, work, _chatting _and setting down permanent roots- you must be kidding me! I would be even more mentally unstable then I am now! Where would I even get a job? I doubt 'Teenage Super Hero' qualifies as relevant experience for working in some dead-end video store. Nope, the video store wouldn't be wanting to hire me any time soon.

The Flock seemed to enjoy it though. From what I could see of their lives they seemed to like living a normal life. They are stronger then I am. They can do the whole _adaptation_ thing. I can adapt in battle, I can adapt in wilderness- but I can't adapt to normality. It isn't me. I don't want to try it. Like I said before, it would only lead to failure- and Maximum Ride does not accept failure.

I feel fear too, not just pessimism and sadness. I get scared wondering if the School will stage a comeback or if the Erasers somehow managed to survive. Oh yeah, my paranoia never faded. Sometimes at night, I wake myself up and go scouting. That little inner alarm clock that won't let me sleep through the night. So I scout instead, looking around the area where I'm staying for any signs of malignant behaviour. I can't help it, it's built into my system after years of performing the task ritually. The Flock can leave it all behind- they can forget all about the Erasers and the School. Maybe they have the odd nightmare or rare moment of contemplation, but other then that the past is firmly in the past. They can live in the moment and believe they are safe. I can't. I think of the past, I think of the future, and I fear the present. It could happen. There are plenty of evil people in the world, I know because I've met a lot of them (and kicked them from here to next Tuesday too.) Who can truly believe in the promise of safety? It isn't a promise at all, it isn't failsafe and it isn't true. Anything can happen- just look at the News reports! The Flock might be able to gloss over the past- the horrible and painful past- but I can't.

I try to tell myself that I'm being paranoid, and maybe I am. But I know that if it wasn't for my paranoia in the past, there's a good chance the Flock and I would be six feet under right now. So they might be able fool themselves into believing that they are safe, but I'll still have their backs. Nothing is going to harm them on my watch. And it is _always_ my watch.

For me this will never be over. I need to stay alert and be constantly wary and suspicious. The world always needs saving, and until the day I die I am going to be the superhero. That- I have finally realised and am able to admit- is my destiny. That is my purpose, my fate. That is my life.

And yeah, that's a big change in view, right? Things change with time I guess. You grow mature, indifferent, and sometimes when you end up alone- you realise that the best way to protect the ones you love is to stop doing things in spite, and to just accept responsibility. Responsibility… isn't that a word just laden with implications? Kind of like 'normal.' You might not have asked for responsibility, you might not want it… but if it saves the ones you love- it's worth embracing it.

I was built for this life. I was designed to carry this responsibility. I am alive to keep them alive. Even if I am not in their lives, even if they don't see me- I will always be there, I will be lurking in the shadows ready to catch them when they fall. I will be on the look-out, I will stop any threats to their safety- because I love them. I love them, and therefore, it is worth it. It is my purpose, I might not be in their lives… but they _are_ mine. The Flock are my world.

The Flock is my life- simple as that. All hail the paranoia and responsibility, for it shall keep them safe.

I can finally admit it. I am meant to be the hero, I am meant to save the world. I am meant to save _my_ world- I am meant to save them. And so I will. To be honest, working in a dead-end video store probably wouldn't have really been much fun anyway.


	6. Falling To Pieces

**~Fang POV~**

"You look like crap," Iggy said bluntly.

"How would you know?" I bit back. His gentle fingers swept the panes of my face, slowly gliding over the sunken hollows beneath my eyes. I froze. Iggy was the only one that I didn't mind seeing often- he couldn't see me, he had no reason to gasp like the girls did when we met up. But now, now Iggy could see me. Under his fingers, I was laid bare. I didn't like it.

"Nudge said so. You're in a bad way, man. You been sleeping at all?"

"No." My voice came out hoarse. It always was- I was hoarse and rough and I looked awful most of the time. Lack of sleep wasn't helping matters. I was falling apart without her. Falling into pieces like a shattered glass vase. The others were doing okay, I knew they were- even in my bad state I tried to ensure that they were getting on alright. The rest of the Flock didn't feel her loss like I did- sure, Max was their mother in her own unique way… but she had been something more to me. And, not only that, but it hadn't been anyone else's fault that Max had left. That weight was on my shoulders. Mine and mine alone.

Iggy sighed and his sightless eyes remained on mine. Cloudy and blind meeting dull and lifeless. He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. The simple touch felt like lead as his fingers gripped and curled around my shoulder.

"It's been months, Fang. How many times have you analysed that piece of paper, huh?" He was referring to the letter Max had left us all. I had pinned it to my wall in a silver frame without any glass. That way I could actually trace my fingers over her words and see it without any barriers.

"Every day." I admitted.

I knew every curve of every letter, I could recite it easily and remember every crease on the vanilla sheet. At first, I had been convinced that Max would leave some kind of clue as to where she was going- and so I had studied her letter like a professor. Deep down I knew that there was no deeper indication in the note, Max had made a clean break, and anyway- as the Flock had reasoned- Max never stayed anywhere for any substantial amount of time. The letter was just another reminder that kept me up at night. She was gone, but I still couldn't move on.

"Fang, we all miss her okay," Iggy began. His frustration was seeping through his tone and anyone could tell that he was at the end of his tether where I was concerned. I couldn't blame him really. "We all miss her, we really do. And I know she was closer to you than to anyone else: it was always Max, Fang and the Flock. Even if not officially, that's how it was. You were her best friend- closer even. But we all miss her- she was practically Angel and Gazzy's mother for crying out loud! And yet they're moving on. We will never ever forget her but this is the way she wanted it. She's gone and she's not coming back."

"Stop talking about her as if she's dead!" I snapped harshly. "Max is not dead!"

Pain hit me in a fresh burst then- how did I know she wasn't dead? Surely I would know, I would feel something, right? I would- I would feel something. I would have to. Max couldn't be dead. No- no, Max was strong. My Max was still alive. I knew it. Max was alive- it was the truth, it wasn't just another desperate cling to hope. Max was alive, I believed it and I knew it was true. Iggy was wrong- everyone was wrong.

"Fang!" Iggy wasn't patient and gentle anymore. He was just annoyed and frustrated. Snapping at me, not really caring about being considerate and caring like Nudge and Angel told him to be.

"You love her, okay!" he shouted at me. "I get it. But. You. _Have_. To. Move. On."

I spoke quietly. That stupid echo of my voice that sounded so frayed at the edges. "I hear her wings, Iggy. At night. She's not gone. I hear her wings."

Iggy shoved his hands into his hair and then flung them to his sides giving some kind of groan mixed with a growl. He walked out of the room exasperatedly to get a drink in the kitchen. I could hear him sigh and mutter under his breath as he turned on the tap. They were all getting sick of me, and I couldn't care less. They could all abandon hope and move on, but that wasn't me. Max was still out there somewhere, and I was going to find her. I was searching the internet, trying to trace credit cards under possible aliases, and hacking into police files. I never got anywhere, but I never gave up. Nudge wouldn't help me- she said it wasn't fair to Max. The stupid girl actually believed that Max wanted this- that she wanted to be separated from us. I was the only one that knew how Max thought, none of the others understood. No amount of begging on my behalf worked, I was left completely alone in my mission to find Max and I wasn't doing very well. I was falling to pieces.

Breathing deep, I tried to calm myself down and work up the physical and mental strength to follow Iggy. It was a regular occurrence that I would have to go running after at least one member of the Flock- I always managed to worry them or annoy them so much that they ended up storming out on me. As I neared the door, I realised that he was talking to someone in the kitchen. Kate. Great, no doubt they were talking about me. My brother and the person my DNA said was my sister.

"Has he been sleeping any better since I was here last?" Iggy asked in that quiet, low timbre. The concerned voice, the one that showed he was worrying. That stupid voice that made me so angry that I wanted to hit something- he was worrying about me, and that meant I was failing Max. I was supposed to be taking care of them, not the other way around. Without her, I couldn't do anything right.

"No," Kate's voice sang in that usual high-pitched way of hers. "His insomnia is still giving him trouble."

"Insomnia, is that what it is," Iggy said with a tinge of patronising anger.

I walked into the kitchen, deciding that I couldn't let this conversation go any further. Kate skipped off with a lollipop twirling in her mouth. I did what I always did when this kind of thing happened, I pretended nothing had happened and started talking about some film that was on the TV the other night. When I asked if Iggy had seen it, he didn't even make the usual sarcastic comment about being blind- he just said that he had and started discussing it with me. He was just happy to see me make an effort, even if I still wasn't facing up to the glaringly obvious problem that I had.

The Flock were shocked that I was so talkative these days, they thought it was down to my family. I finally came out of my shell once reunited with Mom, Kate and George. I had tried to call him Dad, but I couldn't do it. It was hard enough to call my mother 'Mom'- George was nothing to me, just Mom's husband. They had tried, but I still wasn't happy. Not without her.

My sudden desire to talk to others wasn't anything to do with them though. I made an effort these days, because I finally realised how important communicating was. Maybe if I had been more open in the past, people- including myself- would have realised how I felt. Maybe it would have turned out differently. Maybe it would have been very different, and maybe Max and I would be happy now.

To be honest I was getting sick of 'maybes'. I was getting sick of talking so much and not being able to do so with the one person who would actually listen. I was getting sick of being so pathetic, moping and mooning over someone who wasn't here anymore. But whenever I tried to force myself into moving on, I just wasn't able. Deep down I knew that I could never completely let her go. Not her. Not the unforgettable, indescribable Maximum Ride.

Iggy left some time later in another bout of silent anger- I had given him another envelope. A brown paper envelope with a sheaf of crumpled bills inside. Money. My only way of really taking care of our broken Flock at all. Iggy always shook his head sadly with a twinge of distaste when I gave it to him. It made me look even more pathetic in their eyes. At first they had refused to take it, but I guessed that Iggy had told them to just accept my money. He knew that it made me feel like less of a failure- it made me believe that I could take of them, even when I could barely take care of myself. What more could I do- an empty shell of a man with bruised and tired eyes, a shattered heart and a hollow cavity where happiness used to be. Money was all I could do for them anymore.

Iggy took the money because he knew I needed him to take it, but the pathetic act still made him angry and upset. Well, those adjectives were understatements- but I wasn't all that great at describing feelings anyway. Max never had a clue how I felt, hell- neither did I. So while it might upset the Flock to be taking money from me, I did anyway because it made me feel like I was at least trying to live up to Max's expectations.

Iggy went home after telling me to get some sleep. I nodded and said that I would, but I knew I was lying. Sleep was overrated anyway.

Traditionally, I opened my curtains as the darkness closed in, anticipating the beating of strong wings. The one sound that would stop me from completely falling to pieces. The one sound of hope that would keep me hanging on.


	7. Paranoia

**I'm shocked at the positive response this fic has received, and I want to thank you all for taking the time and effort to read and review. Eigthnote- if I could express how much your reviews meant to me, I would- but all I do is ramble nonsensically, so I hope that you have worked out how pleased I am!  
Here is chapter 7- it's a Max POV, and it shows us a bit more Fax- as will the next chaper in Max POV. I hope you enjoy- let me know what you think.  
Happy New Years everyone =]**

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**~Max POV~**

It's setting in. I can feel all the walls closing in on me- even when I'm out in the open and there are no walls anywhere near. It's like water- pushing down on me and drowning me. I can't breathe and I'm finding it hard to think straight. Like I'm under water. A massive volume of water crushing me to a seabed littered with the remnants of someone else's life and the skeletons of long dead creatures. The liquid clouds up my mind and makes it hard to see- everything cloaked in a hazy, blurry film.

I'm getting paranoid and adrenaline floods my veins. It rushes around my body with a loud, crashing roar like a train that is going way too fast. A train that is going to hurtle off the rails and smash into a million pieces of smoking debris for all the world to watch on their tiny TV screens. It is paranoia. Heightened to highest possible climax. My paranoia never left me. It wouldn't go away, but there wasn't too much of it. It was just an edge- enough to keep me wary and focused. Enough to keep me just that little bit scared and driven. But that isn't how it is now. Now, the paranoia has taken over. It has overridden my body- taken over the system.

I can see them looking at me. Those bright, monster eyes staring into my soul and threatening to take it away. They are taunting me. To them it is a game.

_Na na na na na, I'm going to get you._

They are watching me. Those handsome faces that are designed to lure. Familiar faces that have been manufactured to look like shop window mannequins. But these mannequins don't just look good- these ones do terrible things. They are built to murder, designed to destroy and on a mission to terminate me. Terminate, end, destroy, put-down, exterminate, execute, slaughter, expire… they all mean the same thing. They are all just euphemisms for one little word. Kill. They are here to kill me. To put an end to my life. But I can't let them do that. I have a job to do. A family to care for. A Flock to protect. They can't make me fail- I am not meant to fail. I am Maximum Ride- I am meant to succeed. I am meant to freaking save the goddamn world. I am supposed to save them! It is my watch, and I can't fail on my watch.

The paranoia has forced me to my knees. I have succumbed to it. I let it override my system because I know that it will drive me even further. I'm hopping States at an alarming rate, sleeping with one eye open and one fist raised. It is hard to sleep- worries and nightmares haunt my un-relaxed mind and I scarcely trust myself to close my eyes for one second. But I know I have to. I have to close my eyes, because I have to sleep. I need to be rested and alert- because this time I am on my own. This time it is even more important that I succeed then it ever has been. And it is going to be harder. Much, much harder. There won't be anyone to watch my back. There won't be anyone to catch me if I fall- only a gang of monsters that will throw me down again and make sure I can't get back up.

I am jumping states constantly- but whenever I am sure that I am not being followed, I always end up returning quickly to the same old places. In the dead of night I circle around the solitary homes of the Flock casting shadows of a previous life on the perfect walls of a new one.

These visits are even shorter then my previous ones. Except Fang's. They are the same length… because I could never spend much time at his window anyway. He made it the hardest for me- he was the only one who was smart enough to realise that I wasn't just some innocent bird flapping quietly outside his window. The first night I hovered outside his drawn curtains, I heard a noise inside. He leapt from his bed and his feet landed with a thud on his floor- I bet he woke up his entire house as they slept. I made a dash for it- zooming into the trees in the distance, piling on the super-speed. I glanced back once I was at a safe distance. Fang's curtains were flung open and I could see the little pinprick of light in his window- like a little beacon trying to call me back. A warm glow that called to me as if I were a moth that wanted desperately to bask in that light more then anything else in the world. But I wouldn't let myself.

From that first night onwards, I was more wary around Fang's window. I had to be on my guard. He was the only one that I had to use super-speed on. The second night, his curtains weren't closed, and as I flew away I heard his voice shouting my name to the sky. He was too smart- he always knew me better then the others. He could see past the lie that the others believed. Fang knew that I wasn't always a strong hero, he knew that I missed them and he knew that I couldn't just sever the ties with the Flock completely. Some nights he waited for me outside, hidden stealthily in the camouflage of darkness. He was waiting for me, ready to confront me. To stop me and try to talk me into coming back. Those nights I didn't even come near the house- I could tell that he was lurking in the trees outside or sitting on the porch, birdie senses are very strong. He still never gave up though, and often camped outside just waiting for me. Patiently waiting like always. But I turned my back on him and ran- like always.

His curtains were always open. It was Fang's message to me, it told me so much. It told me that he wouldn't give up, it told me that he knew me too well, and that he might just maybe miss me too. I hated that he wouldn't just sleep like others. I hated that he wouldn't just give up. Because it meant that I couldn't see his face. I could look at the others while they slept- even if it was just a glimpse of their hair splayed out on a plump pillow through a crack in their curtains. But with Fang, I couldn't see anything. Just open curtains or a flashlight in the darkness of his garden. I clamped headphones on my ears so that I didn't have to hear him shout my name anymore. It was just a name, just one little syllable… but it was the way he roared it. Like he needed me as much as I needed him. But I was convinced that it was just my mind planting things in my subconscious again- telling me what I wanted to hear. More then anything, it was the fact that it was Fang who was saying my name. I couldn't bear to hear it- so I decided to rule out any chances of having to hear it. On with the earphones.

It hurt though, because I wanted to see his face. I wanted to make sure I never forgot. I wanted to see how he was doing without me- see if he was doing as well as I hoped. I knew he would be, he would like this new life- but I still wanted to see for myself. God, I missed him. I missed them all… but I really missed him. And when I knew that he hadn't stopped trying to make me come back, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know whether I should smile, or whether I should just wish that he would stop and move on. Well, he had moved on- but, he hadn't fully let me go yet like he should have.

But now, now Fang is not the biggest of my worries. He will be fine- he already is fine- and the others will be fine under his care. I know that, and I believe it completely. But that doesn't mean that I am going to give in. The Flock still need me there- I need to have their backs unbeknownst to them, I need to know that they are safe. They are my life. I need them- simple as that.

_Na, na, na, na, na- we're going to get you. Ready or not- here we come. We're going to get you._

It is a game. For them it is a game, and I will be ready. I will make sure that they don't get me. They weren't going to get me. I am the Maximum, I am the Ultimate- I will be the Winner. Invincible, Powerful and Strong. The Flock believed the lie, they believed that I was infallible even when I made so many mistakes. The enemy will believe the lie too. Like I said- I am a Master of Deceit, I am an expert in the field of lying.

The paranoia is back, because I believe that they are too. So if they are here, if they are back, I will stop them. Again. This time I'll stop them once and for all. The adrenaline flooding my senses and my own strength will be my only weapons- but it will be enough. The pretty faces are haunting me and taunting me- but I am ready. They won't get me, they won't win, and I will be ready. I am rapidly convincing myself that this nightmare is reality. Not just extreme paranoia- I am starting to believe that it is real. Belief that they are actually back and it is all coming crashing down around me once more, the huge wave of reality that is ready to swallow me whole.

The swirling emotions that accompany the rush of the hunt and the run courses through me, a very familiar feeling that I haven't felt for a long time now. A very long time. A distinctly familiar feeling that I had hoped I wouldn't feel again. Yet, it was one that I suspected I would.


	8. Blood Stained Shirts

**Well, it's officially the New Year here (an hour into it!) so I say- let's start it off well! It's a two-chapter day! The main reason is because your reviews have made my heart swell and seriously inspired and encouraged me (you know who you are!) The reason the two chapters today are short is because Max is living in a paranoia induced panic, she doesn't have enough time to write novels! So that is another reason why I am posting this chapter and the next all in the one day. Chapter 9 will be up in a few hours, after I wake up lol! Happy New Year guys, hope it's a good one =] And once again- thank you so very much.**

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**~Max POV~**

The paranoia is never wrong. My senses don't deceive me. It isn't a suspicion anymore… it is real. The wave isn't chasing the back of my heels anymore- it has caught up to me and drenched me in freezing cold realisation and fear. Reality is back. Danger is back, and I'm on the front line… but there are no lines behind me. There is no cavalry to come and save the day if I fail. It's a one woman army. But that doesn't matter- because I won't fail. I know I won't. I have to believe that- because if I don't believe that I can win, how can I convince the enemy that I will?

There is blood caked on my shirt. Eraser blood. On my torn shirt. My shirt that was white this morning, but is now brown and red all over. I have two fractured ribs that luckily enough are starting to heal. My left eye is swollen shut and is a beautiful mix of colours- blue, black, yellow and purple. There goes my modelling career for the next few days, I suppose. I haven't started this very well. Then again- what was that stupid saying… they might have won the battle, but they haven't won the war. Yeah, that's it. Maximum Ride is going to win the war.

I am lying on a bed in a shabby motel while plans formulate in my mind. A series of plans consisting of multiple scenarios, a million possible fight plans and a billion contingency plans.

They are back.

The School, the Erasers, the stupid bad guys that just won't leave me alone- they're back. So I need to get back to my mental drawing board quick and plan. Just like the good old days, except this time I'm way more outnumbered. And as I lie here, I think of the Flock. A little slide-show of their faces plays in my head with a soundtrack of their voices and laughter. And…just for a while, I wish that they were here. I wish that I could hear Iggy mock my cooking skills, and listen to Nudge talk about something silly at a million miles an hour. I wish that I could hug Angel and ruffle Gazzy's hair. I wish that I could… I wish that Fang could be here. Just for a minute… or for forever.

I wish that I could feel him creep up on me in that silent way of his… and then he would look at me in that way that made me spill my darkest secrets to him. Because he could see past the mask, he could see through the lie. He knew it was an act, he knew that I was scared and he was the one who could chase those fears away. He could send those fears running- running just as fast as I usually ran from him. Sometimes I wondered what would happen if I didn't run… if I just let him kiss me, and I just let myself stay with him in that warm circle his arms made around me. If I let myself happy for just a few minutes, instead of succumbing to the fear of 'what if.' The ridiculous fears that churned up my insides and made me dizzy. Fears that forbade me from whispering those three little words. _I love you. _People say them over and over every single day… but I don't, I shy away and listen to the demons that haunt me with the fear of **what if. **There's no use in wondering about that at this stage.

Too late for that now. I made my choices. But sometimes I kind of wish that he knew… and I wish that I could see him just once more. To hear him give me all that strength that he always did- just before I went off to battle again.

I wanted to see them all again. I wanted to hug them, I wanted to ruffle their hair, I wanted to listen to them. I probably wouldn't know what half of what they said meant… they were different now, after all. They were normal. They could _conform._ They probably had friends, and boyfriends, and… girlfriends. Perfect ones. Perfectly normal ones to go hand in hand with their perfectly normal families. Sometimes I wish that I could be perfectly normal too, so that I could fit in with their world- so that I could be good enough.

But then the pain springs up in my ribs again and I feel the dull, throbbing ache in my head and around my eye… and I remember where I am, and that normal and perfect aren't me. That isn't my life, and I shouldn't even want it to be. There is no sense in wasting my time dreaming of things that can never happen- that is just a pointless waste of time that I don't have. So I take some more painkillers and get back to my plans.

Of few things in this life I was sure. But I knew what I had to do, and I knew that I could do it if I tried hard enough.

I will protect my Flock.

I will beat these monsters.

All I had to do now, was work out how I was going to go about doing that. The School wants me back and apparently a polite RSVP "no" doesn't cut it. That doesn't matter- there are ways around obstacles. For every plan there is a counter plan, for every counter-plan there is a contingency plan. They won't get me. I will save my world, by keeping my Flock safe and defeating any threats that get in my way. I will have a plan. There is always a plan.

And everyone knows it's going to be okay when I have a plan. Even if it's just a carefully constructed lie, and I don't have one at all.

Everyone knows it's going to be okay when Maximum Ride has a plan.


	9. Hero of the Story

**~Max POV~**

This isn't good. I'm not doing so good. I shouldn't be getting this injured.  
I am the stronger, upgrades or not. I should be able to crush them, defeat them and stop them. But they keep hurting me- I'm outnumbered. One woman war. One broken woman maybe. The wave is closing in around me, and there is a net hidden in the shimmering water that is ready to wrap around me and never let me go. But it is okay, because I won't let it trap me and then it won't be able to keep me. I have to believe in the hero- in Maximum Ride- in myself.

I want to go back- back to the way it was. I want the Flock to live with me- in a cave or a borrowed home, I don't care. I would even be willing to do what Fang suggested and buy us a house. We could pretend that they had no parents, I could pretend that I had never found them at all. We could stay together and be happy in our non-conforming, unusual way. And it would still be perfect. Our own special kind of perfect. But I can't go back, I can't say the things that I never bothered to say and I can't undo what I have done. I made my decisions and took my own choices. Now, they are after me again- and they have the upper hand, but I won't back down or try to run. I'm not going back to the School, no way.

I'm starting to think that I am in trouble, there are so many of them. My head spins and all the injuries they manage to send my way through blind luck in sheer numbers starts to take its toll. My body is weary and my head is woozy. The Flock are safe so far, and I managed to warn Fang. An obscure warning, but a warning nonetheless. That was all that mattered- Fang would know now that he had to be careful. He would look after our Flock for me. My little Angel, my brave little soldier, my excitable chatterbox and my wonderful blind chef. And, of course, my… Fang. I still didn't know how to refer to him- there were so many descriptions and none felt strong enough. He was my Second-in-Command, my Right-Hand-Man, my Rock and my Best Friend. He is what I crave, what I need. But maybe it's just the loneliness talking, or the many blows to the head I had taken in the last few days.

Hell, what's the point in lying anymore? I'm not even lying to anybody except myself. It isn't the tiredness, or the blows to the head, or the loneliness… I just need him. But I can't have him now. I can just miss him, and be happy that he has moved on and is happy. I can miss him and fight a war for his safety- along with the others'. There was this song I heard once by some girl called Regina Spektor. It was called 'Hero'. There were two lines that I used to play over and over in my head all the time.

__

I'm the hero of the story

Don't need to be saved

And there it was- easy to understand. I am the hero, and no one needs to save me. I do the saving. Except for when it comes to Fang- he wants to be the hero too. No, that's not true- he just wants to be _my_ hero. I think some part of him always thought that he would be able to fulfil that role. He wants to protect me and care for me… well, he wanted to. Now he has a family to protect and love. Because I left and made it easy for him, I left and let him be happy.

Like the same stupid song said- _he never ever saw it coming at all._

The Flock have been warned and there's no more I can do if I want to keep them safe. Fang is in charge now, he will understand, he will do the right thing.

__

It's alright,  
It's alright  
No one's got it all  
It's alright

I warned them. I can't do any more. I love them too much to get them involved in this. They won't be a part of this fight- battles between good and evil only exist on the television for them now, and that's the way it should be. They know- they know that I love them and that's enough.

I took down fourteen single-handed today... But I didn't get away unscathed. Yet another shirt destroyed beyond repair… and a few bones. But that doesn't matter, because I know I can do this. I will win this fight. I need to rest before tomorrow. Tomorrow there will be more.

Tomorrow I will be ready.


	10. Lipstick Hope

**First off- a huge thank you to every single person who leaves me a review and brightens up my day! I really can't express my thanks enough, I really appreciate it and I feel so honoured! This is back to Fang POV and it's the longest chapter so far. I really can't say much more other then Thank You. Enjoy it, let me know what you think. For those who were asking- the 'action' will commence after this chapter. But don't go expecting car chases and gunfights... please! This isn't a story that focuses on action I'm afraid. Thank you again. Voila! =]**

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**~ Fang POV~ **

Mom was complaining. Her lipstick had gone missing. But honestly, what did she expect when she left it on the chair outside?! Some innocent bird probably stole it to build a nest with. So I just stayed at the table staring into the depths of my coffee cup and listening to her car drive off. Apparently she just couldn't do without this one particular shade of lipstick. Kate went with her and George was already at work- oh the unadulterated joy, an empty house. Living in a house with a television had turned me into a sarcastic grouch. Well, that was one of the more minor reasons.

"Fang."

I could hear someone call my name, but I didn't care enough to answer. The house was supposed to be empty- why couldn't people just leave me alone with my thoughts. Just for a while. So I returned to my coffee- not actually drinking the black, soulless liquid but just slumping my head over it and inhaling its strong smell. The deep aroma filled the kitchen, I could never understand how Mom drank this stuff. It looked like polluted water and it smelled like something burnt.

"Fang!"

The voice was getting more impatient. But I was too tired, too frustrated, too broken to listen. This was what I got for staying in the garden all night. Sitting in the cold, dew-soaked grass waiting for her. Waiting to see her face again- and this time it would be highlighted by the soft light of the moon and not the bright rays of the sun. I needed to see her face. I needed her- to hold her so that I wouldn't feel so wretchedly broken. And then she wouldn't feel broken either- because only I knew that she actually was.

But she never showed. Like always. She just didn't come, and I sat there alone in the cold until dawn broke again. I stumbled into the kitchen and met Mom making George's breakfast. I didn't speak. I just went into the bathroom and splashed cold, cold water on my bleak face. Then Mom made Kate use the phone. Stupid, idiotic wireless communication device. And now someone was here, calling my name and trying to break through yet again.

I felt myself tip sideways off my chair- whoever it was that was trying to talk to me had pushed me roughly on the shoulder. Not a gentle push- a strong shove.

"What?" I asked in that hoarse voice of mine, my question didn't even sound like a question- it was just something to say for saying's sake. I should have sounded indignant or annoyed, but I didn't. Just the usual- hoarse, emotionless and empty.

"Kate called me. Your Mom's worried, man. What are you doing?" Iggy asked. I should have known it was him. Who else would it be?

"I'm not doing anything. Just… breathing." I could have said living, but that wasn't really true was it- it was an empty existence void of joy or contentment. I was still broken.

"George wants you to go to the doctor, he's worried about your 'insomnia'." Iggy sounded scathing as he spoke that one word. My excuse. The family couldn't argue with a disease.

"I told him- I'm fine."

Iggy threw back his head and laughed. Not in humour or mocking, but just a dry, loud laugh. "Fang- lying to me is one thing, but lying to yourself is another. You can't honestly believe that."

"Don't lecture me on lying! Every single one of you are lying to yourselves. Convincing yourself that Max is okay and-"

"Fang, listen to yourself for Christ's sake! Max _is_ okay- you are the only one who is destroying himself here. Talk to me, tell me what the hell is wrong."

He outstretched his fingers, and I pulled away instantly. His fingers stayed suspended in the air, and I glared at them. "Don't," I pleaded. "Please don't, just let me stay unseen."

"Why?" Oh what a simple little word it was, laden with a million implications.

"Because you won't like what you see. And I hate seeing it too."

"Then just tell me," he sighed. "Just tell me what is wrong, and we'll get through it. You are walking round like a lifeless zombie and it's scaring the others. Nudge and Angel are on the brink of tears any time they think of you, Gazzy and Total think you are depressed. And I wouldn't mind, but I know that you put on that stupid mask around them and pretend that you are happy and okay- what would they think if they saw you like this? Just tell me what is wrong- talk it through and stop bottling it all up."

"I can't."

"I can handle whatever you tell me, Fang. Come on, I can handle it."

I looked into the depths of my dark coffee. "Maybe I can't."

Iggy sat still. Biting on his lower lip and closing his sightless eyes. And then I started to speak. I started baring my soul, and once I started I couldn't stop. The words just kept coming and the mask disintegrated, they had pushed me too far and now I couldn't keep in it. I had to make them understand, I needed help in finding her. I needed _their_ help, and I couldn't get that unless they understood how Max really felt. I kept speaking, and spilling my secrets. I was showing him how I felt, and it was an odd experience. An experience that I never indulged in before. For the first time, Iggy was seeing how I really felt. He could see now that I could not cope with facing up to myself or the way I felt.

"I can't handle not seeing her, Iggy. I can't handle knowing how much I screwed up. I can't handle knowing that she is alone and unhappy. I can't _handle_ being this broken and empty. I can't handle the lies that you all tell yourselves, or the stupid way you convince yourselves that Max is okay. You are the ones lying and you have no idea how much damage you are doing. You don't know her like me- you really just don't know h-"

"Fang, just stop," Iggy said wearily. Anger was bubbling under the surface of his cool facade and I could tell that it was vying to get free and go on a rampage. "Don't try to accuse us of not knowing Max or not caring about her. We do! We love her- and you need to face up to the fact that you do too. This isn't healthy, Fang- obsessing over her and deluding yourself into thinking you can hear her wings. It's crazy and it's ridiculous. Max is gone Fang- wake up and get to grips with reality! Deep down, you know why she left. She left because she knew that she was going to lose you. She thought you would be happy here, so why don't you at least try to do that? Do you honestly believe that if she was still here that things would be different? Max didn't want you Fang. She ran away from you. Every single time you tried, she ran away. So move on- she didn't want you and she isn't going to either. Just move on like she wanted, we all know that she has."

My body shook. Each word was an individual blow that sent me reeling backwards. He sat there so calmly, as if he was speaking the truth and there was nothing wrong with it. I had shown him how I felt, I told him the truth and took off the mask- and all he did was throw it back in my face.

This is why I used to keep quiet, nobody understood when I tried to express myself anyway. I felt weak and vulnerable, not empowered or liberated by my admissions. I shouldn't have opened my mouth, I should have kept it all in like usual and stayed strong. All my nerves were trembling and my muscles were itching to hit him.

"Get out."

Iggy's relaxed look faltered and he tried to backtrack. "Fang, come on! Just-"

"Get out! Get out, Iggy, before I make you. I'm tired, I'm pissed off and if you don't get out I'll probably hit you, so just get the hell out."

And Iggy left. Again. I didn't follow him- for once one of them had gone running because I had told them to. They were all oblivious- stupid and blind and completely taken in my the comfortable lie that was Maximum Ride: Hero Extraordinaire.

Iggy still didn't get it- they still believed in Max's lies. They still believed that she was invincible and heroic 24/7. Max had weaknesses too, and I knew it. I was still alone on this one. My head played a million images at whirlwind speed- Max turning her head, Max flying away, Max turning her back on me, Max walking away, Max running away from me. I still didn't know why she did that. Fear, maybe. Yeah, I went against the commonly held belief that Maximum Ride was fearless. I knew that there were a few fears lurking under her strong show of strength. So what was it that made her run? Fear of something that was unknown to me. But I didn't care- I just wanted her back. I would take what I could get. Iggy taunting me didn't help my situation, and my hand was clenched around my mug of coffee so hard that my palm was burning.

_She left because of you._

Words replayed over and over in my head. My palm burned red and I felt myself fling my cup across the room. Smash. A tinkling sound of china on the white kitchen tiles. A broken cup and a big mess. A broken, shattered, ugly mess.

Why couldn't they just believe me? Why couldn't the Flock help me? They were supposed to understand- we were supposed to be a family… not like these shams we lived with now- a real family: supportive and helpful. I guess I was right all along- there is no Flock now, you just can't function without a Leader. We were just a group of people who used to close once upon a time. We still loved each other, we would still protect each other… but we had drifted apart. They were the ones that needed to wake up to reality. They were so dense that it astounded me. They had become completely enamoured with the false notion of normalcy. I didn't belong there, I wasn't happy living this life… because she wasn't in it.

I knelt down amongst the shards of jagged china and began to clean-up before the rest of the house got home. The blood running down my finger to mix with the spilt coffee told me that I was alive, but it still didn't feel like it. I felt about as alive as the piece of sharp china clasped in my hand. I could finally understand what Johnny Cash and Nine Inch Nails meant when they sang that song 'Hurt'.

_I hurt myself today,  
__To see if I still feel  
__I focus on the pain  
__The only thing that's real_

_What have I become?  
My sweetest friend  
Everyone I know goes away  
In the end _

Yes, I definitely understood that now. Hurt and pain override my system in this world where I drift along in a hazy cloud of it. She was gone, my sweetest friend and all I ever needed. But she wasn't completely gone- the others could fool themselves into thinking that she was, but I knew better. If you don't hope to win, you have already lost. I live by hope, and it keeps me more alive.

Mom came back later that day with Kate, still muttering about her missing cosmetics. I had cleaned the kitchen and debated calling Iggy but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I decided that I should go for a jog to clear my head. I took no heed of my mother's lipstick crisis until I went back into my bedroom to look for a pair of shoes to go for my jog. Once I stepped into my room I knew that it was no bird that had stolen the lipstick- an angel had simply borrowed it. An angel with blonde hair and tawny wings and a killer smile. I froze in my doorway, looking at the transparent glass nestled in-between my open my opwn curtains.

On my window pane in big, brown-pink, mushed-up lettering was a message. The message that turned my hope into belief and faith.

_**STAY ALERT **_

_**X**_

That scrawl was instantly recognisable- it matched the letter pinned to my wall. I knew that penmanship because I read it every single day. Looping letters running along the window as if they were written in a huge rush.

Max.

There was my proof- scrawled across my window. I had been right all along. Max had been coming to my window, she had missed us. She had missed me. I knew it. I had been right all along, and who cared about what Iggy had said now- I had proof. I wasn't going completely crazy. I was not delusional or filled with false hope. Max was still out there, thinking of us. I could find her- I knew that now more then ever.

The message both lit a fire of blazing happiness and struck a cold chill of fear in me.

_Stay alert? _

Why? What was happening? What was going on in Max's world- in our world? I could only hope that it wasn't a worst case scenario. I could only hope that Max was alright and that the School was still destroyed and in ruins. Even now, I was still clinging to hope. As Shakespeare said- hope is a miserable man's medicine. But, this couldn't be about the School- even Max wouldn't leave her message that ambiguous if it was a threat that serious. Would she? In her eyes I was Joe Soap- living in the world of sitcoms and hanging out, of family bonding at dinnertime and chatting. She thought I was happy, didn't she? So would she tell me if it was that dangerous?

Whatever it was, it had to be serious. Max didn't take things lightly. Her paranoia had always been a source of amusement, but it was always taken seriously too. Max saw threats everywhere, and usually I could prove to her that it was okay- this time she was on her own. She had to convince herself. It couldn't be a serious threat to our safety, I reasoned, she would have taken more drastic measures if it was. But I had to be on alert anyway, protect them all until Max convinced herself that it was alright and came back.

So I made a resolution to myself. Max was out there. Max needed me to man-up. She needed me to protect our Flock, so I had to pull myself out of this slump. Because now I had proof that she was okay, and once I proved it to the others- we could start looking for my Max. So I rang Iggy and apologised. Then I told him what I had found… he got so annoyed that he hung up on me after a stream of some very choice words. He still didn't believe me. He thought I was going even more crazy then usual. Iggy had lost any faith in me at this stage. But that wouldn't dishearten me now- I had a cause now, a reason. A proof and a foundation for all my hope. My hope had substance now, it had something concrete to be based on.

So I turned to the next in line: I sent Nudge a photo of my window via email with a long message of explanation beneath it. But she still wouldn't let herself be swayed into helping me. She actually thought that I had drawn the message myself in a desperate plea for attention and help. But that didn't get me down, I knew now. I knew that Max was watching me. I knew that she still cared, and it didn't matter that she had run. She would come back, or I would find her.

I resolved to start checking up on the Flock more then I usually would, just in case. I had been Second-In-Command, therefore I was basically the Leader now- even though in my eyes that role would always fall on Max. It was time for me to face up to my duties. It was time for me to do what Max intended. I could protect the Flock and prove to her that it was okay. She could come back once she found a way to calm her paranoia. The empty pain lingered on and did not fade- but I learned to live with it. She was out there- thoughts of Max and the assurance of her quickly beating wings in the night kept me together.

But then, I got worried. It was my watch, but that didn't faze me. I had a breakthrough that day when I saw her writing on my window. It lasted for two solitary nights before I got really worried, and I had to go back to clutching at the straws of hope. Just a few hours, from the evening before until darkness fell again. Max didn't always come to my window every night, but after a message like that… The others still didn't believe me. I was still on my own.

I only had a few hours of complete trust in her safety before I went back to desperately clinging to scared hope. A message of warning upon my window, and then a night void of sound and full of deafening silence. My ears strained to hear it- to hear something, anything. My heart pleaded for the hope to come back- the hope that had substance and a concrete foundation. The silence laughed at me, and my heart emptied.

That night, I stopped hearing the wings.


	11. Everybody Loves Television

**Thank you so much to all reviewers- you guys are absolutely amazing! I'm sorry for making people so panicked with the obscure ending if the last chapter!! =P  
I hope you enjoy this one, make sure to tell me what you think of it =]**

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**~ Fang POV~  
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My phone rang irritably, disrupting the silence around me. There was no other noise up here in my room, the refuge where the rest of the world wasn't allowed to enter. To be honest, I was grateful for the distraction my phone posed- there was only so much silent contemplation that even I could take in one day. "Ig" flashed up on the screen.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked by way of greeting. I was lying on my bed with my laptop open in front of me- just because I was spending most of my time checking up on the Flock it didn't mean I couldn't keep searching for Max… not that I had been having any luck.

To be honest, I was getting very worried- paranoid and anxious in a way that would put Max to shame. The message in make-up had been erased from my window but it was now imprinted on my mind, my overactive subconscious had jumped to every conclusion and reached no answers. My hope was keeping me alive, my duty to the Flock was giving me a purpose. I still needed her, and I was more afraid then ever- Max's warning had rattled me to the core and disturbed my every thought. But the same old clause held me to my supposed home- she needed me to protect the Flock, and as such I couldn't leave the way I wanted to or search the entire world for her. If I found her, then I would be home- then it would be alright. Right now, I could only hope to do that from this prison-like refuge that was my so-called home.

"Turn on the News," Iggy said. There was no greeting or small talk: it was a simple command issued in a no-nonsense manner, and it was clear that he was expecting immediate obedience.

I was more then slightly perplexed at this stage. "Why? If this is another documentary on-"

"Fang, turn on your goddamned TV and meet me ASAP in New Orleans."

"Okay, okay." I had no idea what was going on, but Iggy sounded very panicked and frantic. That was enough to worry me. His sentences were short and snappy… and slightly terrifying. Why on earth did he want to go to New Orleans? If this turned out to be for something stupid like the PlayBoy Bunny Sponsored CarWash or something, I would wring his neck for scaring me like this. I had enough to scare me as far as Max was concerned- if Iggy was giving me unnecessary causes to worry, I would (in Nudge's eloquent lingo) "freak". I was already on my way down the stairs, taking them three steps at a time, urgent to get to the television. The line crackled as the sound of my pounding footsteps undoubtedly echoed loudly in Iggy's ear.

"And Fang?" he added in a strangely hollow tone. The sound of… regret? My heart started to race- something was very, very wrong. Suddenly I didn't want to hear the end of Iggy's sentence, and for the first time in my entire life I was completely frantic and focused on what was on the television. The first time I had ever actually cared about what was happening on that stupid box that all the _regular _people were obsessed with. I didn't want to hear what was so awful from Iggy, I just needed to get to the television. He beat me to it though, he finished the sentence before I even reached the end of the stairs.

"I'm sorry."

He sounded hollow and choked up. The call cut off with a flat line beep. A horrible noise symbolising the end. Those two words made my stomach drop and I smashed through the hallway door. Sprinting towards the sitting room, I grabbed the remote off an indignant Kate and hastily flicked to Channel 5. Stabbing the little gel button with my finger so hard that I nearly dislocated it, I jammed it down too far and the tiny rim of plastic that it was sitting in dug into the pad of my finger. This did not sound good- at all. I was getting frenzied, and the only way to calm my fears would be to see the News Report like Iggy had asked.

"Hey!" Kate yelled indignantly, a whining sound that was as head-wrecking as sharp nails being dragged down a blackboard. "That is _so_ not fair, I was watching-"

"Ssssssshhh!!" I hissed through clenched teeth as I stared at the woman behind the news desk. A redhead in the usual tailored suit- she looked very serious and very professional. Then again, for the amount of money she was no doubt getting for this- it was no wonder. A big, fake smile of falsely white teeth adorned her cosmetic covered face- but I didn't care, I was just intently focused on the words escaping between them.

"... Some believe that it is set to be a continuation of the bestselling Maximum Ride series which have featured heavily on this programme in the past. The notebook would appear to be penned by the leader of the so-called Flock; the group of winged children who are still anonymous to us after all this time. The motel room showed signs of forced entry and a violent struggle with a considerable amount of blood shed at the scene. In all accounts it seems to be a very hostile incident, with what would appear to be numerous injuries. The young woman who was staying in the room is described as tall, blonde and very slim. There was no CCTV footage recovered which -combined with the fact that the woman paid in cash and left no details- will make it difficult for police to find leads. Of course, with the discovery of the notebook at the crime scene -which is presently being held and studied at the New Orleans Police Dept.- it causes us to speculate: are the winged children going to fly once more?"

My heart plummeted. Sick- I felt dreadfully sick. My breath hitched in my throat and died. I found myself coughing loudly in an effort to regain the ability to respire. I grabbed my black leather jacket off the back of the armchair and made for the door.

"I'm going out, Kate," I yelled over my shoulder. "Might stay with Iggy. Don't wait up."

That was all that needed to be said- they didn't need any more of an excuse then that. It was sufficient. As I took to the air and unfurled my wings, I pulled out my phone and redialled Iggy's number.

"Where are they?" I demanded. "Where are the Flock?"

"They're all with me," Iggy muttered. "We just picked up Angel and Gazzy. We should meet you just before you hit New Orleans if we keep up this pace. I'm sorry, Fang. So, so sorry. I should have believed-"

"It's too late for that now, Iggy. Just keep flying, we have to get there soon. I need to find her."

Flying was more important now. All that mattered was getting to the destination. My head and my heart could wait until we got there, all that mattered now was the wings and the way they kept constantly moving. I wondered how Iggy felt now, and Nudge- all of them really. Did that crashing sense of realisation weigh down on their shoulders? Pushing them down to the ground and crushing them over and over. Did it finally sink in now? They should have known, they should have helped me- and now they knew how it felt. But I still couldn't bring myself to hate them for it- Max had told them the lies that they wanted to believe. The lies that were so much easier to believe then the truth. It wasn't really their fault. But I wished that they had realised sooner. I still wished that it was different.

Muscles slowly loosened as I propelled myself towards New Orleans. Cold air pushed my hair back from my forehead and chilled my face. It would have been refreshing, but I was too far gone to use that nice description now.

A book- apparently written by Max- found at the scene of a violent disturbance... A very violent disturbance. Panic and cold, hard fear gripped my already wounded heart. It froze me from the inside out as though a shot of pure nitrogen had been shot into my veins. My injured heart threatened to stop, but thoughts of her kept it beating. It sounded corny, but sometimes the truth is. What was it Max said? _"That boy has some poetry in him."_  
Trust Max… and I did. I trusted Max- I trusted in Maximum Ride: the awe-inspiring person that I knew and the heroic lie that others believed. I trusted in the fact that she was strong, and capable. I trusted that she was alive… Alive and waiting. Waiting patiently for me.

New Orleans. Maybe I would find her in New Orleans. No, I would. I _would _find her. Hope and faith- keeping me alive all the time. All that mattered was getting hold of that book from the police department. I would get the book.

Then, once that had been taken care of- then I could get started on finding Max.


	12. Broken Pain

**Don't worry, despite the tone of finality, this is not the last chapter!! Thank you so much to everyone reviewing, it means so much! Some of you were asking how long this story will be- the estimate is 18 chapters but I might add a few more =]**

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**~Fang POV~  
**  
It hurt.

I might have said that before, but nothing compared to this- not the School, not Angel getting captured, not watching Max do DIY surgery on that beach, not realising Jeb was a traitor, not even the day Max left.

No, this hurt much much more.

It hurt so much that I couldn't use fancy metaphors or similes to try to show it. I couldn't even use adjectives. It just… hurt. I could laugh at the way I had used this word before- everything else was so _undeserving_ of this word. Nothing had ever tortured me this much. I had never truly felt empty before. I had never really felt heartbroken or destroyed. But now… now I understood what those words meant, they were the emotions tearing apart my soul and ripping up my heart.

We went to New Orleans. Straight to the police station. We distracted the cops and stole what we needed. We needed what they had more then they did, there was no guilt and technically it was rightfully ours. We took the notebook. It was frayed at the edges, splattered in dust, dirt and blood with a peeling leather cover. It went straight into my backpack, the others didn't argue- Nudge opened her mouth once, only to be very quickly silenced by Iggy. His guilt was eating him up- he had already made many botched attempts at apologising for his cutting words and lack of faith in me. I wouldn't listen, heart filled forgiveness sessions would waste time I didn't have- Iggy could wait. He was trying now, he knew that I was the only one who could really find her. I guessed that he had given the others a long lecture on how to act around me- it should have annoyed me, the special treatment, but nothing registered in my mind except for her.

Max.

I had to find her, the rest of the world could wait. Nothing else mattered.

Searching for her was all we could do at first. The motel was swarming with police, there was no chance of getting close to it. So we decided to search New Orleans. _I_ decided that we would search New Orleans _first_… and the rest of the world straight after if our luck didn't shine through here. The only problem was that we couldn't split up. Max had been most likely taken- there were no bodies at the scene, so the most probable conclusion was that she had been captured. I couldn't let any of the Flock out of my sight, I couldn't risk losing them. So we set out together in the dark night sky, swooping and flying with our eyes and ears taking in every single detail below. We took the liberty of searching on foot too. The entire area of New Orleans was scanned, surveyed and examined with more precision then any mere policeman could hope to achieve. No one could ever hope for a more focused and detailed search. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack: we analysed every separate piece of straw… and never found our needle.

We came up with nothing.

Zilch, zero, nada, nil, nothing.

I flew for four days and five nights straight until I was forced to stop. The kids were complaining constantly about being hungry and tired, but all I ever did was bark commands at them and tell them to shut up and keep looking. Iggy's face was constantly contorted in pain- crushing regret and remorse, he gently hushed them and helped them to keep going. I was exhausted, barely able to stand never mind fly. The Flock were beyond frantic and wild with fear anxiety and pain- it was a mixture of losing Max and seeing her Second in Command destroy himself trying to find her. We covered huge areas and multiple surrounding states. Everywhere that held a glimmer of a shadow of a chance that she might be there, and almost everywhere that didn't. Nothing. Not a trace of anything. No feathers, no footprints, no fur… nothing. It was as if she had disappeared off the face of the earth. The sound of our wings beating rapidly as we searched highlighted the fact that I hadn't heard hers in so long. It haunted me.

On the dawn of the fifth day, Iggy pulled me aside. He was gentle and calm and kind. He told me to stop. He told me to take a break, and I wanted to scream at them again. Scream and roar and shout and tell them that I couldn't. I couldn't stop until I found her, but I didn't say anything, I just looked. Looked at the Flock as they lay on the floor in horrible states of exhaustion. Big, black rings under their bloodshot eyes set as hollows in their gaunt, pallid faces. Max's family- our family. Seeing them like this would kill her, I couldn't do this to them or to her. So I nodded. No words, just resignation and a resolute nod of my head. Iggy grasped my forearm comfortingly- I wanted to shake him off, but I didn't: I knew he needed it more then I ever would. Nudge jadedly led the way to a bus station.

That day, taking a bus home with the Flock, my heart finally broke. I had time to catch my breath now and I could focus on what was happening, it all came rushing at me- every emotion overwhelming my senses. Her notebook was in my hands, the last thing I had left of her. Sitting on the backseat reading each painful, scrawled word in her book, I was too hurt to even cry. I was just broken. Empty, hurt and broken. The life had ebbed out of me, but a tiny spark within me kept me going… I wasn't going to let her go. I would keep looking no matter what. Five days wasn't enough for my Maximum, she deserved five lifetimes. She deserved everything, and I would find her. I loved her, just like she loved me. We just realised it too late. Far, far too late.

"Beautiful… wings and beauty… like a swan," I muttered. The others stared at me as I muttered my broken ministrations. The image of Max soaring away in the light of the sun flashed across my mind. All white and beautiful in its blinding light… like a swan.  
"Did you know that swans… mate for life. They find one perfect swan and love them forever... And when their mate dies, they just fly around in tortured anguish until they die too… all alone and heartbroken."

"Fang, don't… don't say-" Nudge's eyes watered and she couldn't finish her sentence. And I just sat there. Alone. Angel and Gazzy were clinging to each other, Iggy looked so guilty and Nudge wasn't speaking as tears slipped down the permanent tracks on her face. The bus felt so small, like it was going to crumple in on top of me like a crushed aluminium can- the same sensation that was present in my constricted chest. I didn't say anymore. I just sat there. Broken.

I felt weary- not just because of the flying and lack of sleep- but because of the knowledge that I never could and never would stop looking for Max. Yet even I highly doubted I would find her. There were no leads, no clues, no people for me to shove up against a wall and threaten for information… nothing. She had vanished. Without a trace. What would they want with her… well, that was obvious- but I couldn't even say it in my head, never mind out loud. Fingering a dried spot of blood on the black leather cover I realised that if I ever did find her, she would most likely be dead.

And yet every night my curtains remained firmly open, every day I would read over her words and feel what she felt when she had scrawled those messy words on lined paper, and every single day I would search for her in various states, shops and sidewalks. I never stopped. I never quit looking. The others managed to move on after a while, with the help of their friends and family. They had lives of their own now, and I couldn't begrudge them for that. No one ever came for us, so I delegated. I searched every inch of the continent and further while leaving Iggy in charge. I packed in any thoughts of work for a while, I forgot all about living with my so-called family: all I did was search for Max every second of every day (and night). I trusted all the Flock to stay safe for me in my absence- even though there appeared to be no threats whatsoever any way. They only wanted Max. It looked like they got what they wanted.

Her notebook became my only reading material, apart from maps and useless information on computer screens. I would read her words and feel my heart shatter over and over again. We had been so stupid. We missed our chance and now there was no time left for a second one. The stupid swans had nothing on this. We both got fooled by the lies, we both had fears and we were both in love. We just never had the sense to fully realise it, and once we did; we didn't have the courage to say it until it was way too late. We should have seized the chance, we should have been honest and taken no heed of our stubborn nature… but then that wasn't us, was it? Now it was too late.

I still swore to myself that I would find her. Even though it started to become accepted among the others that she was dead. That was why they wanted her… She never got in touch. I never heard any more wings. She had not escaped, and maybe she wasn't alive anymore. My hope, very slowly, began to die- but I still couldn't stop searching.

After all, as Iggy said, I loved her.

And as Max said- if you love someone as much as this, even though you need to let them go, you never can.

You never, ever, ever can.


	13. Five Years Passed and Missed

**The Chapter name here is a reference to the song Five Years by The Early November- I had never heard of the band or the song up until a few minutes ago! I couldn't think of a name for the chapter and just typed Five Years into Google to see what came up lol! The lyrics are really good! Well, as always- a huge thanks to all readers and reviewers! =]**

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** 5 YEARS LATER **

Matt shuffled around the kitchen, looking for milk. It was a nice place- homely and quaint. The kitchen walls were painted apple green and the cupboards matched the wooden table with its six surrounding chairs. They were the obstacles he shuffled around tiredly. Once upon a time, Matt had been a fighter- a warrior and a soldier- who stood ramrod straight and held a masterful posture, but that time had passed. He wasn't that person anymore, he was someone else. He had no wars to fight anymore- only the constant battle within himself between his regrets and his past. Matt was not the person he used to be, not by any account. He could now pass as just another normal citizen, even though he had never truly felt like one and knew that he never really would.

"Adam, you're outta milk, man." he called into the adjoining room. "You're gonna have to get your coffee at the café across the street before work. I can go and pick some up while you're gone, if you want."

Adam rushed in from the sitting room with his tie slung untied around his neck. He ran towards the fridge and sighed dramatically looking decidedly scandalised as he tipped the empty carton of milk upside down. "No way! I refuse to drink the muck at that pathetic excuse for a café!"

Matt looked on amusedly as Adam struggled to knot his bright blue tie. He was a very animated guy who liked to laugh a lot. Matt didn't tend to indulge in that action very often, but around the happy-go-lucky young man that was Adam, he was trying. Adam was currently scowling as he turned himself cross-eyed trying to put the finishing touches on his tie, his tongue poked out of the side of his mouth in confused concentration. Even Matt couldn't help smirking at that as he leant against the table in a state of pure relaxation. Adam was twenty years old, only three years younger then Matt himself- but he made Matt feel much older. Maybe it was because he was so happy all the time, or because he didn't have any worries burdening his soul like Matt did- either way, the youngster made him feel old. His carefree, relaxed nature seemed to heighten Matt's sense of his own moroseness.

"And I'm going to be late," Adam cried. It was a good thing that his auburn hair was so short, Matt mused, if he had to do something as demanding as brush it in the morning he would probably never get to work. Adam grabbed his bag and reached a resolution for the milk crisis. "I'll borrow some from next door. Come with me, Matt. Seriously, she's a looker!"

Matt rolled his eyes as Adam dragged him out the door clutching a steaming mug of coffee. "You have a problem. Surely you can go one morning without coffee?!"

"Nope, I need my caffeine. And don't slag me off, it's my home you're staying in!" Adam answered jokingly. He shot Matt a grin before knocking on the door to the opposite apartment. Matt slouched behind, trying to dodge the little puddles of black liquid that Adam had sloshed onto the floor in his constant excitement. He had no choice but to follow, Adam had only let go of his arm once they were out in the corridor.

Matt raised his hands in mock surrender. "I respect your caffeine addiction!"

Adam seemed to have trouble staying still for too long, he was hopping up and down as he waited for his neighbour to answer her door. Matt felt like he should say something, Adam was right- it was his house that Matt was currently staying in. Free of charge, and he didn't even know the guy. The only reason that they had ever met was so that Matt could stay with him- Adam was an older cousin of one of Matt's closest friends. He had saved Matt from another night at a dead-end motel, although the only difference was that Matt actually had to spend his time talking to a fellow person instead of brooding over the past and the dismal present. But maybe that was a good thing.

"Thanks for letting me stay the weekend, man," Matt said, he was trying not to mumble. Matt had never been great at communication, he was able to admit it: heartfelt thanks or apologies had always made him feel uncomfortable. Although he had come a long way in a few years. The reasons for his progression were less then joyful, but they made him face up to his problems. They haunted him too much to let him coast along in an isolated bubble of silence or acceptance. He had to adapt. Matt had changed a lot of things about himself since his early teenage years- some for the better, some for the worse. But not much could be done to alter that, it was just the way things had turned out.

Adam shrugged happily, "Any friend of my cousin, is a friend of mine."

There was a shriek from within the apartment the two men were stood in front of, and a loud laugh resonated inside the door. A small noise reached Matt's ear as the peephole in the door was pushed back. It was clearly being peered through by some anonymous person inside. "The Looker," as Adam had named her. Matt stood back immediately so that the girl could see her neighbour and not some stranger.

"One sec, Adam!" called a woman's voice. It was a bright voice, carefree and happy. A much higher pitched trill of laughter still coursed around inside. This apartment clearly housed more then one girl. Matt wondered which girl it was that Adam considered good looking. Not that he really cared for his own sake, no girl had ever held any appeal to him… none but one, and she was long gone. She was nothing now but something he dreamed of, someone who left a void in him that nothing could ever hope to fill. She was gone and not coming back. Matt closed his eyes briefly and rubbed his hand over the military style dog tags around his neck. There were two metal tags and Matt ritually rubbed the pad of his thumb over the raised letters stamped onto them.

Breathe deep, don't let the pain show. The pain was always present, locked up inside him where others weren't allowed to see it. It was personal, it was his- and no one else needed to know about it. No one needed to know how empty he felt, no one needed to know that his heart was broken or that he always felt alone no matter how many people surrounded him. All he had was his memories and his regrets, and that tiny voice that kept him going. All those regrets and bittersweet memories. Matt ran his thumb over the cold metal of the tags again and reluctantly opened his eyes.

Adam responded with a jolly "No problem!" as he continued to rock back and forth on the soles of his feet. The leather of his shoes creased up with his movements, etching permanent jagged lines in them. Matt doubted that Adam needed coffee at all. It seemed like a catastrophic idea to give the boy any form of caffeine. Matt could only dare to imagine what the hyperactive man would be like _after_ he drank his coffee.

"You'll have to excuse me, Adam, it's the weekend so we're having a pyjama party!" The voice held a lilt of laughter as she spoke. It was bright and carefree like the tinkling sound of a wind chime in a light breeze. The door opened to reveal a blonde woman in a blue hoodie and stripy pyjama bottoms, her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail with little strands escaping and wisping around her face. She seemed happy, Matt could see the curve of her rosy lips as they smiled, but the rest of her face was obscured by her hair. There was a bowl of Cheerios in one of her slender hands and a metal spoon stuck up out of it. Matt could hear voices on the television in her apartment, accompanied by small bursts of soft, girly, gleeful giggles.

Adam brandished his mug at his neighbour with a bashful expression. "Any chance of some milk?" he smiled warmly, his expression mirroring hers. "I know I asked you the same thing on Wednesday but I really did mean to go shopping, I just kind of forgot and then it was too late. I only realised because Matt told me, and- Oh! This is Matt, he is my cousin's friend. He's staying with me for the weekend."

"Of course you can have some milk," she laughed in response to Adam's question. "Hello Ma-"

The woman turned to Matt with a big grin, intending to introduce herself. She seemed very amused at Adam's blabbering antics and excitable nature and it showed on her happy face. As she turned, Matt finally saw her face. Her long fingers pushed the hair that had been obstructing her face from view behind her ear. But then she glimpsed Matt's face full on and her grin vanished immediately. Her sentence hung unfinished in the pregnant air. The slender hand froze as it curved around her ear- the golden hair trapped between her fingers as though they were caught in the mesh net of those shining strands. Her beautiful bright eyes darkened and went wide, she swallowed promptly before quickly turning on her heel. Her hand dropped like a dead weight and her hair flared out in the air as a direct cause of the speed she had hastily spun around with.

The blonde's smile had evaporated and the door slammed loudly on the two men outside. The atmosphere had instantly changed and tension grabbed hold of Matt's rigid frame. He looked like he was in shock, floundering in some sea of frightful delusion. His eyes were wide and a million images flashed in them. His hands and lips trembled infinitesimally, his knees felt like they were going to buckle beneath him.

Inside, the sound of laughter continued, but all Matt could hear was the blonde's loud and crashing breaths as she leant against the door. They screamed in his ear, even though Adam could not hear anything at all. Matt had good hearing- excellent hearing… like the others of his kind. Adam's forehead screwed up in confusion beneath the short spikes of his red hair, and he glanced questioningly at the man beside him. Clearly this kind of behaviour was not a regular occurrence.

It all came crashing down around him: everything he had believed, everything he had lived by, everything he had thought was true…

Suddenly Matt felt very, very weak...


	14. Rising From The Ashes

**Okay, so I know the last chapter caused some confusion so I'm updating twice in one day to solve that! Don't ya love me? Lol, thank you so much to everyone reading and reviewing =]****

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**~ Fang (who is now 23yrs old!) POV~**

"Matt, do you know Max?!?" Adam's voice questioned me- laced with perplexed confusion. And who could blame him? His neighbour had just smashed her door closed on his face… because she had seen me. She had closed the door so that she couldn't see me, because if she felt anything like I did she probably thought that she was going crazy. She probably thought, like I did, that it was a cruel twist of fate played by a sardonic destiny.

"Matt?"

My name wasn't Matt, it didn't fit me. Hearing it used to address me made me feel like I was wearing someone else's clothes. Clothes that were too big and baggy, ones that didn't suit me and didn't fit me. They itched and lacked any form of comfort.

My name was Fang, Fang or Nick. The name I had chosen for myself or the name that she had given me. Matt might be the name that I was given by my 'mother', but even after five years it still sounded wrong to my ears. It had never sounded right. I doubted that it ever would.

I couldn't answer Adam, in fact I couldn't move or speak. I was struggling to breathe, my lungs felt like they were collapsing in on top of each other as my trachea closed up and made me choke. I think this is what they call going into shock. Deep, deep shock. I was rooted steadfast to the spot like a useless concrete statue with my mouth gaping open like a fish out of water.

Those eyes, that smile... they had haunted me for over five years, every minute of every day. The voice that I thought I would never hear again, the face that I thought I would never see. It made me wonder if I was dreaming- it had happened many times before. Beautiful dreams where her flawless face smiled at me widely, until I woke up and reality crashed down upon me like a massive wave. Emotions always felt like waves crushing me and drowning me now- mainly because that was how she had described her feelings. But it couldn't be a dream, because I could feel my dog tags in my hand; I could feel the air rush out of my stomach as if I had been kicked in the gut. And in a way I had been- fate had managed to dupe me once again, another treacherous kick to the stomach.

It was her. Max- my Max. And she was alive. Really and truly alive, breathing right in front of me. All that separated us was a tiny little door. Just a door. How simple… just a stupid, flimsy door. Not a city, or a continent, or the ethereal waiting room that was purgatory… no, it was just a door. I had to speak, I couldn't lose her again. Nothing would ever make me lose her again. All I had to do was speak- but my throat was still closed up, as if a large rock had lodged itself in my oesophagus. My eyes blinked rapidly, I could think later- all that mattered now was getting past the door. I could break my way through concrete walls and fly over the highest tree tops… a door was not going to be the thing that defeated me. Clearing my throat I hit the door with a heavy thump of my fist.

"Max... Max, please. It's me, please open the door. Please." My tone was desperate- so desperate and pleading. But that broken quality that used to embody that sound had somehow faded away and dissolved. Suddenly the world seemed brighter- she was here. She was alive! After all this time I had finally found her, the overwhelming joy nearly drove me to my knees. It was a huge rush of emotion that took me over- relief and joy so great that it made me want to cry. The tiny spark of hope that had been wavering so pathetically suddenly burst into life. Like a magnificent phoenix rising from the dirty ashes of conquered death- my hope became fully-fledged and turned into pure joy that made my broken heart swell.

There was no response. Silence- I had to fight the silence. The ever-present battle with my age-old enemy. Only the silence could stop me, nothing else. And I wasn't going to let it stop me- nothing would stop me now.

"Five years, Max. It's been five whole years. And they all gave up- all of them, but I wouldn't listen. I never stopped looking- even when everyone else thought you were dead. I never gave up hope Max, I swear I didn't. I couldn't Max, I couldn't let you go. I could never let you go. I never stopped looking. I never closed the curtains. Max... please..."

I heard her breath catch in her throat- a sound that was so similar to a suppressed sob. It made me want to break down the door and wrap her up in my arms. Never to let her go again- never let her out of my sight or my arms. I waited with baited breath for her reply. I was craving her voice, it was music to my ears- the sweetest symphony.

Then it came. What I had been waiting for. A wavering, cracking voice- a voice I had missed constantly, a voice I had played over and over again in my head- hesitantly answered me.

"Shandra ezeet," She began.

Those were our words. She was testing me, she was still Max- doubting what she so desperately wanted to believe in. She couldn't afford mistakes, she was always so smart. She was smart enough to make up those words all those years ago in the School, so that we could talk without any scientists listening in. And now she was speaking those long redundant words that made a watery smile tug the corners of my mouth.

"_Fight together_..."

"Shakar ezeet. " I finished.

"..._Live together_."

There it was- two halves of the same whole. The second half of our motto- finally joined together like they were meant to be. The door slowly creaked open and a tearstained face told me gravely "I think you should come inside."

Poor Adam looked completely mind-boggled. He garbled an excuse about work, looking unbelievably confused and regretful for having to leave. He shot me a pointed look and stuttered a goodbye to Max. He wandered off down the hall with his black coffee in his hands… he never did get his milk, and I couldn't care less. The flimsy door was open, and at that moment it appeared to shine in celestial light as though the gates of heaven had just been opened for me and me alone.

I stepped over the threshold and walked inside. To Max.

Finally. Finally, I had found Maximum Ride.

The world made sense again, because I was standing here with my Max standing right beside me. And that was all that mattered. My mind was racing with a million unanswered questions like: What? How? And most importantly _why? _Why was she standing here in front of me completely unharmed? Why had she never gotten in touch with me? Why had I lived the last five years alone and broken-hearted when she was alive and well- when we could have been together? Why?

But I didn't care. I was too far gone to care. The answer didn't matter, it could wait. All I wanted to do was see her. She was here at my side and that was all that mattered. Fang and Max. It had been so long, so very long- but she was here, and I was terrified that I was going to wake up in any second. Her tearstained cheeks glared out at me as I put one foot inside the door. Her damp eyelashes were fluttering above her bright eyes- this wasn't a dream. Those gleaming orbs that pierced my soul were real. For once, this wasn't a dream, but it felt much more surreal and unbelievable than any dream that I had ever had.

Max and Fang. Two halves of a whole finally reunited… my heart suddenly didn't feel so broken anymore. So I stepped into her apartment and let my healing heart soar.


	15. The Drastic Difference of Reality

**Okay, so I mentioned waaaay back in the beginning that there was a plotline in this story that I was a teensy bit worried about. The reason I am worried about it is that I have seen it written spectacularly badly and I don't think people like the storyline too much... So this is the first time the aforementioned plotline will come up, the explanation of it will be in the next chapter. I know this ends on a cliffie but the next chapter will be up first thing tomorrow... Please don't start a lynch mob and threaten to kill me after reading this...  
On a brighter note, thank you all so much for your reviews, they mean so much =]**

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**~Fang POV~**

I couldn't believe it, this was Maximum Ride's apartment. _I_ was _standing_ in _Maximum Ride's apartment. _Not only that, but she was here with me. Alive and breathing and trying not to cry and… just here. And I wasn't dreaming. Despite how often I had seen this scene during my broken and plagued and very irregular dreams… this was actually real. I wasn't sure how I felt. Happy- gloriously joyful. Confused- very bewildered. And a whole load of other things that I just couldn't even begin to decipher. She was still so beautiful- still exuding that strength and magnificence.

Suddenly, just as I was about to open my mouth and actually speak- a small flash of brown hair sped past my legs, the chocolaty strands flowing in the air like brightly coloured ribbons on a kite. It cut me off before I had the chance to talk.

"Muuuuuuuum!" It screeched. "The cartoons are back on! The cartoons, Mum, come on!!" The chestnut-haired thing flung itself at Max's knees, and tugged at her hand. On further inspection I discovered it was a young girl. A pretty little girl who was bouncing up and down as she pulled Max's fingers exuberantly.

A girl that called Max 'Mum'.......

Once again, the air rushed out of my lungs and the choking sensation came back. Iggy had always said that Max was most likely dead- and when I refused to acknowledge that, he had argued that if she was alive, she hadn't tried to find us and must have therefore moved on. But I read her notebook… she loved me, didn't she? She loved me like I loved her. Like the stupid swans… forever. She couldn't let us go- no matter how much she tried. That fact blew Iggy's theory out of the water. So then why was Max here with some young child, living some life that I was absolutely no part of.

Maybe Iggy was right, it certainly seemed as though she had moved on...

But I couldn't understand it. I had searched- for five freaking years, and I was prepared to search until the day I died for her. Was it all pointless? Had it all been for nothing? So what the hell was the diary talking about? Why did she write that she loved me, why did she say that she could never let me go if she had thrown me away as soon as the words were written?

__

He is what I crave, what I need

A warm glow that called to me as if I were a moth that wanted desperately to bask in that light more then anything else in the world

God, I missed him

She had written those words. I had read them so many times that I could recite them perfectly. They were imprinted on my mind for evermore, and I had always believed that they were true, they were the one thing I clung to. So how the hell did this make any sense? If it wasn't for the fact that she had spoken those words- our words- then I would probably believe that this woman was a clone. But she had said the words and it was all there in her eyes- the confirmation that had the potential to crush my soul, depending on how this played out. Depending on her explanations.

My glassy eyes stared silently as Max bent down and kissed the young girl on the forehead. "Give me a few minutes, okay sweetie? I just want to talk to this man, and then I'll come watch cartoons. You go and watch them so that you can tell me what happens."

The ball of brown energy fled from the room and within seconds excited giggles emitted from the other room. Max shut the door to the corridor quietly as I stood in confused and conflicted silence. My age-old enemy was taking control while he laughed scornfully in my face.

"Emm… Let's… go in here," Max mumbled. She led me into an adjoining room- a bedroom- the furthest room from the one the little girl was in. There were cream walls and wooden furnishings. We sat on the bed- Max's bed. It had maroon coloured sheets. We sat there, awkwardly embracing silence. I perched on the very edge, I felt like I was on the periphery of a jagged cliff and there was someone behind me waiting to push me off. Push me off with the sheer power of their words.

The dresser in front of me was covered with pictures. Pictures of a grinning Max with the little chestnut-haired girl- there were a lot of those. Some with the kid as a baby, right through until the age she appeared to be now. Some where she was missing her too front teeth- and in every picture Max had a big smile on her face. There was a picture of the Flock in an ornate silver frame, and an old photo of me and Max too from years ago- grinning like idiots for Nudge's camera. I wondered how she had managed to keep them. Was the New Orleans Incident even real? Everything I had ever taken as truth was sinking into the depths of insecurity and doubt.

"I never stopped looking…" I said, gawking at my shoes. "Not even after New Orleans... not even after five years..."

Max didn't answer, fidgeting with her hands. It was so surreal. I always imagined meeting up with Max someday- it was one of the things that I always tried to imagine when being depressed got too much, or when Iggy had lectured me once too often. I would imagine that I would hold her tight, kiss her and tell her that I loved her and that I would never ever let her out of my sight again. There would be joyous screams and happy tears while we clung to each other, and finally it would all be okay again and nothing else would matter.

But this was different… this was real.

And all I could do was mutter about how pathetic my existence had been and how hopelessly devoted I was to her.

"Is she yours?" I asked, gesturing towards the couch in the other room. The comfy looking couch where the little girl in the pyjamas lounged in front of the television. I was hoping for a certain answer, I'm not sure why because I didn't see how it would change much, but I hoped anyway.

"Yeah," Max said softly. "She's mine, really mine- not like Angel or the others."  
So much for hope… the notebook must have lied. Max had said it herself: _I am a Master of Deceit, I am an expert in the field of lying. _So maybe I shouldn't have believed the notebook- because who was to say that it was the truth, who was to say that it wasn't a lie too. A small part of me wanted to rip my dog tags violently off my chest before promptly going back to Adam's place to tear her notebook to pieces.

"Does the father live with you?" I heard myself ask. I had to know. I felt nauseous thinking about that. Yet there weren't any pictures of any men on her dresser... Why was I even asking? Why did anything matter- everything had been a lie, she didn't want me. But I still couldn't let her go, there was no way that I could make myself walk out of this apartment. Not after five long years of constant searching. Even if she had some husband hidden somewhere, even if Max had moved on- I still couldn't, not until I heard her story at least. I might as well start with the obvious questions, and the ones that had nothing to do with the past.

"No. Until very recently he didn't know she even existed. We live alone, always have," Max still hadn't looked at me. When I glanced at her she appeared very pale and she was fidgeting with her fingers. "She reminds me of him sometimes though. It hurts how much she reminds me of him. I miss him so much, and she just keeps reminding me…"

Her voice sounded thoroughly laden with sadness and pain. It had been so long since I had seen her, so long since I had been able to read her face; understand her feelings and comfort her in her silence... but I still knew that she was troubled. Troubled and hurt. That made two of us I suppose. Even though she had moved on and she had a kid now, I still wanted to wrap my fingers around her hand and comfort her.

So I did- I couldn't stand her pain so I tried to take it away. I felt my hand reach out and cover hers. Whether or not it was the right move troubled me for a motionless second, until she squeezed my fingers tightly and shot me one of those dazzling smiles. It coaxed a small smile out of me in return. Her eyes were still watery and her fingers were trembling… but she was glad that I had done it, and so was I.  
I wanted to believe in the lies… I wanted to know if they _were_ lies. I wanted to know everything, even if it hurt me.

"Who is her father?"

I don't know why I asked that either, I wouldn't know him. I barely knew the woman sitting beside me. I knew nothing. Nothing except that she sitting beside and that her hand was firmly held in mine in a beautiful knot of entwined fingers.

Max gazed at the floor. I gazed at Max. She tried to find the words to answer, and I tried to find the strength to look away from her face.

"You." she whispered.


	16. Explanations and Realisations

**Yay, so far no one has hated the last chapter!! I'm so happy =] So, yeah, I'm just heading out the door to school... Going to be hard to keep updating but there's two chapters left so far- maybe more, I'll keep at it =] Thank you so much to all reviewers- signed in and not signed in. I love to read what you guys think! Jaci- thank you for the oneshot idea... I might consider that some time!

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**~ Fang POV~**

"You," Max said quietly, staring at the floor. My fingers instantly stopped drawing those comforting little circles on her hand. For a brief second I thought my heart had stopped too. To be honest I wasn't sure how much more my heart could take today.

Now just hold up for a minute. I had asked the right question, hadn't I? I had said "Who is her father?" and not something else like "Who is sitting beside you?"  
Casting my mind back I could definitely affirm that I had asked the right question… but her answer made no sense. It was all I could do to keep my jaw from hanging open in shock. I had often thought that my pain and isolation might someday drive me crazy, but now I wondered if that same fate had befallen Max during our five year separation. Because there was no sanity in what she had just said.

"I... but... Max, that's not possible. We never..…. you know... it's not possible." Wow, Fang, real eloquent. Nicely done, you _definitely_ have some poetry in you. Watch out Shakespeare, big competition here.

"And yet we have wings," Max said wryly. "That shouldn't be possible either."

I had no idea how to respond to that, because that was true. But claiming that I was some kid's father- that just didn't make any sense at all. Her hand was still resting limply in mine, and I realised just how much had happened in one morning. Everything I had done in the past five years had been building up to this day. Everything had culminated into this morning, the big climax- the destination and the final product of years of agonised hope and strife. All my soulless wandering and pain… It all led me to this- and I had no idea how to act. My mind was drawing a complete blank- never in a million years would I ever have seen this coming. How could I? Max turned to face me, finally. Her lower lip was quivering as if she was about to cry and she held it firmly between her teeth, the fierce determination in her eyes told me that she was trying to stop her body from betraying her any further. She was still acting strong. Her clammy hand still lay limp in mine.

"I was staying in New Orleans," she began hollowly. "They sent nine Erasers into the room to take me, and I was already injured. It was their fourth attempt..."

"I know," I interrupted. "I read your notebook." It was in my backpack in Adam's apartment. I had leafed through it only yesterday- not that there was any point since I could recite it in my sleep. I just liked to see her writing, I suppose. It was one of the only parts of her that I had left… until now, when the real thing was sitting right beside me.

"You did?"

"I read it every day, Max. I know it by heart at this stage… I told you, I could never let you go."

Her cheeks tinged pink, and it almost made me want to laugh despite our present situation- Maximum Ride blushing, hah. I tightened my grip on her hand again- I wasn't letting go. Plus, I wanted to encourage her into continuing- even if her recent admissions about the child in the other room made her sound like she was losing her mind.

"I fought. I fought hard. So, so hard. I thought that maybe I could still defeat them despite being so outnumbered- I didn't want them to get to you and the others. But then a huge swarm of them came as back-up, they finally learned from past experiences I suppose. It all happened so fast that I couldn't count them, but there was a lot. They knocked me out and I woke up in a dog crate. They always did have a thing for dog crates, didn't they?" she said as if it was a joke. But I didn't find it funny, I just held her hand tighter in mine.

Max was simply telling the story, just the facts. She was skipping over all the emotions she felt and the pain that had been inflicted on her. But even though it had been so very long since I had seen her; since I had been there for her, I could still sense the strains of pain hidden in her nonchalant tone.

And I wanted to be there for her. Properly, like the old days. I wanted so desperately to be Old Fang- her Second in Command, her Right-Hand-Man, her Best Friend. The one that wrapped an arm around her and comforted her when everyone else thought nothing was wrong, and I knew that she was hurting.  
I wanted to be that person, but I just couldn't. Old Fang didn't talk to people, he never let them see that he had emotions. He had left. Old Fang had left when Max had. I didn't know if I wanted him to come back- I had changed, New Fang was different and he was trying not to make Old Fang's mistakes.

"There were tests like always," Max continued, casting her mind back to the past. "And then one day, they told me that I was going for a big operation. Afterwards they kept monitoring me, and two months later it was pretty obvious what they had done. So I made it my business to steal some files... We were always good at stealing files… They wanted to see if avian-human hybrids could have kids, and if those children would have wings. They wanted more bird-kids, only this time they didn't want to create them themselves with experiments. They wanted more finely-tuned soldiers to fight for them- and they wanted to use their old soldiers to get them."

Max stopped and inhaled deeply. I guessed that this was where the explanation came into play. "When we were last captured, they took some... samples. I guess that's the kind of evil stunts they pulled when we were knocked out and strapped to tables… They chose me and you because we were the strongest."

I squeezed my eyes shut with as much intensity as I was clutching Max's hand. Those sick, twisted… Even in creating a new life they were so clinical- so determined to create the strongest and the best, just so that they could corrupt it and abuse it for their own horrendous, megalomaniac plans.

"From the moment I read those files, I started to plan my escape. I had been trying to get out all along, but now I had a real reason. I wasn't going to let them take my baby from me. So I started to behave myself for a while and tried to get them to trust me- that didn't work, they were too suspicious. Then I had the baby, those sick scientists delivered her and I hated that it was them who were there and not my baby's family. As soon as it was over they tried to take her from me, I went crazy. They put me in an isolation tank again. I thought I was going to go mad. I was in there for over three days before they thought I was dead and tried to get me out. I remember counting all the seconds. They left it longer then the first time, they were starting to learn. So I found her and the first time I held my baby was when I was busting out of our prison. We broke out- me and the baby," she glanced up at me momentarily. "Our baby."

"But... I... uh..." I was gulping like a fish out of water. I still didn't know what to say or how to react. This was so… I didn't even have the words.

"I can show you," Max said softly. "I know it's hard to believe, and I don't blame you if you don't believe me… but she looks so much like you."

I couldn't answer. I still couldn't get my head around it, I was drowning in my doubts and my overactive thought processes. I registered slowly that Max had removed her hand from my grip, and my hand suddenly felt empty and cold.

"Sweetie, come here for a minute." Max called, a slight waver in her voice as it hitched in her throat. The chestnut haired child raced into the room. She was wearing a purple t-shirt and polka dot pyjama bottoms. I had crashed their pyjama party- our revelations had all happened while cuddly animated programs were being played on her television. Still surreal. The child's long hair hid her face and she was running gracefully around the room like a ballerina. She was chattering about some cartoon about a bunny and a duck, Max was making coos of interest as the kid kept energetically talking. I couldn't really register any of it though. I felt like I was watching someone else's life on the television, because this sure didn't feel like a scene from my own.

Spinning her so that her slim back faced us, Max gently eased up the child's purple shirt. I cocked an eyebrow at her in puzzlement. But Max didn't answer, she just motioned to the little girl. Hesitantly I turned my gaze to the child. The little nameless person that Max was claiming was my own flesh and blood. All she had to do was prove it- because I didn't know what to believe anymore. But how was she going to do that? Quelling my own arguments with myself, I turned to look at the kid in front of me.

Two jet black wings protruded from her back- identical to mine. Smaller and more fragile- but still exact imitations of the set on my own back.

Her smooth skin was lighter then mine, but it was much closer to mine in colour then it was to Max's. Like a mix of the two shades.

Then the girl decided to back up her mother's argument. She turned to face me and the sharp cheekbones beneath her dark eyes glared out at me.

Oh God.


	17. Fate Doesn't Play By The Rules

**Wahey, so far nobody hates the Max and Fang being Parents plot lol!! So, yeah, I'm back at school and updating is pretty difficult- will explains why have replied to nearly none of my reviewers, but don't woory, I will!! Thank you so much to all those wonderful reviewers out there who make my day! This is, unfortunately, the second last chapter so can I please ask you to keep reviewing and send this off with a bang?! Thank you so much =]**

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**~Fang POV~  
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Five years. How was that possible? For five whole years Max had been alive... and I had had a daughter and not known. I had absolutely no idea... and here she was, right in front of me. Looking up at someone she presumed was just a random stranger. I could be anyone to her- just some man who wandered in off the street, just a neighbour, just the freaking postman! She had no idea who I was as she stood there staring. Looking up at me with those wide, innocent eyes. Looking up at her father.

I had missed so much. I had missed her birth, her first words, her first steps, her first flight, first day of school probably. The only thing I had been there for was the weekend cartoon marathon. I had been absent for everything important and everything memorable. I had missed so much, and in the midst of all my clamouring emotions I felt betrayed and full of strange sorrow.

"What's your name?" I croaked, losing myself in the bright pools of her eyes. They were like the colour of dark chocolate and were framed with perfectly long, inky eyelashes. The fact that I had to ask that question was like a ruthless stab to my heart with a rusty knife. I didn't even know my own daughter's name.

"Valencia Nicole Ride," she proclaimed proudly. A beautiful voice for a beautiful child. Just like her mother. Her happy voice was like the tinkling sound of light bells. It broke my heart a little bit. Five years… five years, and I only just heard her speak for the first time now.

"Most people only have one name," she continued, completely oblivious to my inner confliction. "But Mum says that I have to use both 'cause the second part is very special. I don't mind though 'cause I like my names. What's your name? How many names do you have?"

Valencia Nicole Ride.

Valencia... after Max's mother Dr. Martinez.

Nicole... after Nick... after her Father... after _me_...

"What age are you?" I asked in a daze, completely ignoring her questions. Max had disappeared five years ago so she had to be roughly that. God, the number five was killing me slowly. How could I have been missing out on this and never known it?

"I'm four. What age are you- no wait, I shouldn't say that. Mummy says that it is rude to ask grown-ups what age they are. But she always laughs when I do, and I always forget not to ask! Do you like cartoons? I _love_ cartoons- do you want to watch some cartoons?"

Wow, this kid blew Nudge out of the water. No, not _this _kid- _my _kid…_ our_ kid. Our child. Mine and Max's. She was mine… my flesh and blood. My offspring, my daughter. I- Fang- had a daughter. An energetic ball of excitement that was my daughter. I couldn't get my head around that one. Nope, that wasn't happening just yet. I wanted to reach out my hand and touch her, just to make sure that she was real- ensure that she wasn't just a figment of my sleep-starved mind. But- as unbelievable as it seemed- Max was real. I had held her hand and seen her cry… I had heard her voice and felt her breath on my cheek. So why wouldn't this girl be real too?

She was real.

She was mine.

"Sweetie, how about we come and watch the cartoons in one minute. You should go and pick out a good channel." Sweetie was the right word, she certainly seemed very sweet, and cute, and pretty, and perfect. She had skipped off before Max had finished speaking. The brown hair swinging again as she gracefully waltzed out of my sight… and I kind of wanted her to come back.

I was speechless, sitting here on the edge of the bed wrestling with emotions I was struggling to deal with. It was so surreal. I was sitting on Maximum Ride's bed, in Maximum Ride's apartment and I had a four year old daughter in the other room who didn't even know that I was her father. The last one tore me up. This wasn't how this was supposed to happen, this wasn't how things were supposed to turn out. It was meant to be different, so damn different. But, as always, fate had different ideas. Fate didn't play by the rules, it made them; then broke them and added a twist. That sardonic, taunting element that seemed to depict that my life should be as hard as possible. Nothing could ever just go right for us, could it? It couldn't be normal. We never had been normal, we never would be, and maybe we didn't want to be either. Normal wasn't an option.

Max sat down beside me, leaving a slight space between us. Her arms hung limp at her side and she was staring at the damn floor again. I felt betrayed and overwhelmed… but mainly- I just felt terrible that Max went through this alone, and that Valencia Nicole Ride had never had a father. I had managed to screw up more fantastically then I had ever imagined. I was here now, though. I was going to fix this. I would make everything okay- no wasting of second chances, no more making mistakes. New Fang had learned from the past. Old Fang could stay there, he could stay there with his mistakes and his wrong moves. He could stay there in his self-inflicted silence and pain. New Fang was moving on, and New Fang was going to make this all okay. I was going to fix it all- starting right here, right now.

I turned to face her, with my eyes burning. Her eyelashes fluttered as she tried to blink away the evidence of her pain, and she bit her lower lip until a white mark appeared beneath her teeth. Max looked like she was going to cry- anyone else would think that she was impassive, but I recognised that look shimmering in her eyes. She was crying because of me- I had ruined both of us… but I hadn't done it alone. We had both played a part in this, and it was time to face up to the consequences. So I blinked away the caustic stinging in my eyes and swallowed the rock in my throat. Without any hesitation, I wrapped my arms around her. Really tight, like I was a drowning man and she was a freaking life raft. Her shoulders shook as my arms surrounded them fiercely in that warm circle she had always wanted to stay wrapped in. Now she had the chance to, and if she wasn't brave enough to seize the opportunity herself I would make sure she did.

"I'm sorry, Max. I'm so sorry," I mumbled into her hair. Her hair smelled like fruit and it flooded all of my senses. Just like the last time, but this time it wasn't going to mean goodbye. There would be no more goodbyes. I held her so tight that I thought she might break. I buried my head into the crook of her neck as she lay in my arms. I wasn't letting go. I pulled her further into my arms as if somehow this action could convince her of the promises I couldn't yet put into words. The sound of her rhythmic breathing was like a symphony, and our daughter's delighted laughter echoed fantastically from the other room.

"I'm so sorry."


	18. Grown Up, Grown Away, and Brought Back

**Okay, so guys this is the end. I do mean that, but I know that some of you are going to want more (gives some people who know who they are a pointed look!) So I think I will probably end up doing what I did in Never Forgive Me- I will write an ending that has a note of finality (this chapter) and if you guys want I will do a tiny end piece that is more lighthearted and relaxed. Skye, don't think that I don't know that you will be asking about Adam lol! So, yeah, it's all up to you guys- I am here to obey (not, lol. I'm not always good at doing what I'm told but I'll give it a shot for you!) And, alas, we have reached the end. It has been great and I want to thank everybody who reviewed- I am so honoured and gratefull, I really can't express it. Thank you so so much, and I want you all to know that realising that I probably won't be able to write a fic as long as this for a while has made me hate school even more lol. Once again, my sincerest thanks xxx**

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**~ Max POV~**

"I'm so sorry, Max." he said, voice muffled by my hair.

Sorry? Why was he sorry? I was the one that should be sorry, I never told him that he had a daughter- heck I never even tried to find him or the Flock. I had deserted them, for all the right reasons, but deserted none the less. I never thought that he would find out, I never thought that I would see him again… I had always wished that I would, but that had become a dream that I hid away and knew would never come to light. Until now, when it had sprung into present reality without my planning. I had deserted them all, and I did not regret it for one second. If I hadn't, they would be in danger and I would be in at risk too. Most importantly, my child would be in danger and I couldn't allow that to happen. Val is the most important thing in my life, she _is_ my life. But Fang and the others used to be my life, until I had left them.

"Don't be sorry, Fang. Please don't be sorry," I mumbled into his shoulder. It was hard for me to breathe and I had what seemed to be a lump of rock lodged in my throat. He was here, Fang was here in my arms. Fang was here at last and he finally knew.

How had this happened? One minute I was lounging on the couch eating Cheerios with Val, and then Fang had turned up on my doorstep with sweet but scatty Adam from next door. It was so ludicrously surreal that I nearly laughed. For five long years, I had been alone. I had been alone, and crying myself to sleep at night when I pictured his face. And then there he was, outside my door. My life came crashing down around me: my carefully perpetrated lies and everything I had built up went falling to the ground. It all came smashing down around me as soon as I saw his familiar face. The face that broke my treacherous heart into a million little pieces. There was nowhere to run, nowhere for me to hide the evidence of my life. He was here- with me, and I was wrapped in his arms. Something I had never thought would happen again for as long as I lived.

I could feel him disengage himself from my shoulder and with prickling eyes I forced myself to look into his. He was on the verge of tears, but Fang never cried. Not Fang. He was apologising and I couldn't understand it. He should have been at home- with his loving family and his happiness. He should have said hello and asked how I was, then he should have left with the empty promise that he would stay in touch while we both knew that he never would. But he didn't- he slammed on my door and asked me to let him in.

So then I began to think that maybe he still hadn't given up even after five long years. He always was stubborn. That would have made sense- if he had walked in, seen me and then actually kept in touch maybe. But then that didn't make sense either- once he heard about Val he shouldn't have stayed. Once he saw her he should have fled. He should have been angry- utterly furious. He should have smashed up my apartment and left in disgust threatening to never see me again. Yet he was still here. And I didn't know why.

"Why, Max?" his voice was full of emotion, that shocked me. It was like he was leaving himself completely open, not hiding his feelings somewhere beneath the surface where I would have to search for them. The closed book that was my Fang was finally left wide open.

"Why didn't you tell me? Four years, Max! I've had a daughter for four years! A daughter, and I didn't know... And you," his fingers brushed across my cheek in a feather light move that made me shiver.

"You, Max. I thought... They kept telling me you were dead. Dead, Max!" his voice was cracking. "My best friend, my family, I thought you were dead... I couldn't stop looking, even though I started to believe what they were telling me. I was so damn broken that I had to keep looking. Reading your notebook every freaking night and flying around the world searching for you. Five years of searching that I never thought would end until I died. I was never happy with my family- they weren't even my family. You were. And all I had… all I had was your notebook and my stupid dog tags."

He reached into his shirt and tugged a silver link chain roughly from around his neck. It snapped in his grasp and broke in the middle, two silver tags tumbled into his waiting hands where he clenched them tightly.

"So tell me Max, tell me why the hell I flew around the world for five years straight thinking you were dead, when you were perfectly fine. You were fine, and you never told me that I had a daughter. I know I made mistakes Max, and I know you probably think that I would suck at this parenting thing, but God, you could have at least told me. I would have tried, I would have done anything if I had known. I'm sorry, Max, I swear I am. I screwed up and I know it. It's my fault and no one else's that it had to happen this way- it's my fault that you didn't know and didn't think I would care. But didn't I at least deserve to know? I would have done anything to show you, I would have done everything. If I had known… So tell me why I didn't."

I felt like crying, seeing Fang in this much pain and distress made me feel horribly heartless and cruel. He sounded so passionate and desperate. He was blaming himself, he was floundering in his own self-doubt and loathing. He didn't understand, and it was my duty to make him.

"I couldn't, Fang," I cried fretfully. "I couldn't try to find you! They wanted me dead, they wanted Val! They wouldn't stop looking and they would kill all of the Flock trying to get to us... I just couldn't, Fang. I stole their money and my photos and made a run for it. I made sure that there was no possible way they could find us. The first place they would look would be where the Flock lived. I couldn't let them find me looking for you. Please understand that I couldn't tell you. I didn't want your lives on my head, I love you all too much. I didn't want to lose Val, I didn't want to lose the Flock. They would have taken everything from me… I couldn't! I just couldn't..."

I could hear the tears in my emotion-laden voice, yet it still came as somewhat of a surprise when one solitary drop of salty water slid down my face. Calloused fingertips wiped it away, and strong ropey arms pulled me back into a muscled shoulder. The place where I felt like I belonged. Despite everything that I had done to him, I was still leaning on him and I still couldn't let him go. His shirt soaked up my tears and badly contained sobs.

"I'm sorry, Max," Fang said again.

"I don't care," his voice was hoarse and choked up too. "I don't care about what happened, I'm here now. I won't lose you again Max."

He hugged me fiercely. "You and that damn Superhero Syndrome- trying to save everybody at once," he muttered. I gave a small chuckle but I wasn't really laughing, I was just trying to get rid of some of my hysteric tension.

"I missed you," I admitted quietly.

"Not as much as I missed you. Never as much as I missed you," he said vehemently, refusing to let me go.

"You really never stopped looking?" I asked into the crook of his neck.

"Never did, never could, never would."

"Did you really read my notebook?" I edged tentatively.

"I can recite every word of it now if you don't believe me."

I shook my head negatively as his hand stroked my hair absently. All the while, my head rested on his shoulder. And then suddenly he pulled back.

"Are you still afraid?" he asked in a whisper, staring into my eyes.

"Afraid of what?"

"Of _what if_?"

I could feel my throat close up as his fingers toyed with the strands of hair falling messily around my face. I shook my head again. I couldn't do anything else right now. It was too surreal, Fang was sitting on the edge of my freaking bed for crying out loud! He was actually in my apartment after all this time… and he knew about Val. He believed me- he didn't run away or refuse to acknowledge it, he stayed here with me.

"Good," he breathed, and angled his head towards me. Determination blazed in his eyes.

"What are you doing?" I asked, trying not to stammer as he became impossibly close.

"What I should have done over half a decade ago." And he inched even closer, my breath had disappeared.

"Actually, no," Fang said decisively, pulling back. He stopped himself and simply gazed at me again. Confusion marred my face.

"Now what are you doing?"

"Prioritising," he said with a hint of a chuckle before promptly turning serious. "Have I ever told you that I love you?"

Yet another negative shake of the head from Mute Max.

"Well I should have… I love you Max. I'm not going to be stupid anymore, and I'm not going to waste any more time. I never thought that I would have a second chance, and I sure as hell amn't going to throw that away. I was broken without you, and it was my fault that you left. I am not going to make the same mistake twice. I refuse to be that idiotic and obtuse. I love you, Max. Simple as that. I love you."

Before I could acknowledge his shocking words, his lips had crashed onto mine. They melded together, and I knew instantly that I wasn't going to pull away this time. '_What if_' could go to hell, I didn't care anymore. His hands snaked around my neck slowly and I felt something drop into my lap as I kissed him back. The light sensation made me pull back. Looking down, I saw the silver dog tags lying against my pyjama bottoms.

"What are these?" I whispered, picking them up.

Fang looked embarrassed. "Just something that helped me through five years of hell."

I turned them over in my hands. Engraved in delicate letters on one of them were our names. Max and Fang. Just carved there together. My name etched on the top and his at the bottom. Just our two names, together on an untarnished piece of silver in flowing, delicate script. No other words, just the beautiful simplicity of two names. I smiled at him before picking up the other one. There were no words. Just an engraving of… a swan? Just before it soared out of the water and into the sky. Wings half raised and head turned upwards as its long neck craned forward.

"It's a swan," I said dubiously.

"It's a swan," he agreed.

"I don't understand."

"Swans are special," he explained. "They find one perfect swan and love them forever... They only ever love one swan because only one is perfect enough for them. And when their mate dies, they just fly around in unbearable, tortured anguish until they die too… all alone and heartbroken."

He looked up at me from beneath his lashes. "That's how I felt without you. Flying around with no reason in a state of misery and emptiness. It's how I thought of us- you know, together forever and lost and broken alone."

"You really do have poetry in you," I marvelled, my eyes going wide. He gave a slight chuckle, and I wrapped my arms around his neck again. "If the position is still open, I would love to be your swan."

He pressed his lips to mine again. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

So I let him kiss me again- just soaking up the moment of bliss, until I heard Val's giggling coming from the living room. And then I was woken up. I wasn't some free teenager any more. I had a child to think of. What did Fang think of Val? I didn't even know if he could ever accept her. Could he be a father to her, like he had been to the Flock?

But of course he accepted her, he was here! ...Here with _me_… Did he just want the Flock back together, was that his only motive? There was no Flock without me, so maybe he would just allow Val to tag along because he wanted Maximum Ride back. Me with unwanted baggage was better then no me at all... But this was no baggage and it certainly wasn't unwanted by me- this was my daughter, the only good thing in my life, the only thing that kept me going- she was the only one who had brought me joy in five years of chronic pain. She was mine, and she was perfect. Nothing could ever make me love her less, and nothing could ever cause me to make her unhappy. Not even Fang. Paranoia was a way of life that I hadn't grown out of. Thoughts were racing around my head like a manic train that was about to derail. Then Fang drew away from me, his hands remaining on my frozen shoulders and he looked me straight in the eyes.

"I want to meet her, I want you to introduce us," he said, making my heart soar and killing all my fears- he did want to meet her, he did want to know her. His irises were so sincere that I could tell in an instant. Pure genuine longing and anticipation.

We walked out of the room together and he bent down in front of Valencia where she sat on the couch. My perfect little girl beamed at us as she turned away from the television.

"Sweetie," I began awkwardly. "This is... this is..."

My little girl was smart- if I introduced her to someone named Fang, she would surely have something to say about it. Now should I say Nick or Matt?

Fang stuck out his hand to her and beat me to the chase. "My name's Fang, and I'm your Daddy." he said simply and I saw a warm smile adorn his face as he crouched down to her level. Shock overwhelmed me- I was going to say 'Mommy's friend', I didn't think he wanted to accept that huge responsibility just yet…

And right then, right there, I knew that it was all going to be okay. Finally, after five long years, everything was going to be okay. It had taken us a long time to get to here, we had messed it up and lived in misery, we had grown up and grown away, we had lost hope and clung to hope- but finally, we were here and we weren't going to make the same mistakes again. Second chances didn't come too often, and we were going to make ours blissfully perfect. We knew what it was like to be unhappy, and we were finally going to embrace happiness. I think we deserved it at this stage.

Val had climbed into Fang's lap as they told each other little stories. My- no, our daughter had always been very friendly and perceptive. It didn't really surprise me that she was already cheerily bonding with her father- my heart swelled with joy and all the other things just melted away. All the cracks and breaks in my heart healed up immediately, and as corny as it may sound my heart felt whole once more.

I felt Fang lace his fingers through mine and pull me down to sit beside them. Yeah, it was going to be more then okay. It was going to be forever and it was going to be perfect.


	19. The Start of Forever

**Okay, so a lot of you were asking for another chapter- and a lot of you (ahem-skye-ahem) were asking for more Adam and the Flock! So here is another chapter that features Adam along with the rest of the Flock! Tah Dah! I'm actually really happy with it! Just so you know- if I do miserably bad in my english test on tuesday, it is all down to you guys for inspiring and encouraging me so much that I just had to write this chapter! Hee hee. Alas, it is the end- and I'm a little heartbroken about the whole thing to be honest =( So, let me know what you think of this chapter (and the story as a whole) It has been a pleasure writing this and your reviews made me so happy! Love you guys, enjoy the last chapter =] x x x**

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Fang hit his hand off Adam's door twice in a short knock, and then leant back against the jamb waiting for an answer. The young redhead rushed out and flung the door open, peering outside. A frothy toothbrush was hanging out of his mouth and his work shirt hung half open as he fiddled with the buttons.

"Mahh!" he exclaimed happily, before extracting the toothbrush sheepishly and clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sowwie, say it not spray it! Come on in."

Fang sat on one of the wooden chairs in the kitchen as he waited for Adam to finish up. Suddenly, Fang thought with a smirk, Adam's antics didn't make him feel so old anymore. The future was at hand, it had just begun and it had started on a fantastic note. He was young, Fang realised, he had the woman he loved and a perfect daughter too. What more could he need? Fang had everything he needed and everything he wanted.

"Sorry, Matt," Adam said, practically bouncing into the room. "I was making a sandwich and I had this really weird tasting cheese and I… never mind!"

Fang shook his head in amusement, he wondered if Adam had been spending a lot of time with Val. His daughter exuded almost as much energy as he did.

"So, yeah, I was really confused this morning!" Adam said with wide eyes. "I mean, first off Max slammed the door in my face- which, kind of isn't that shocking, it's not like she would be the first supermodel to slam doors in my face- but then you started saying all those weird words! It was like… Siberian or something. So I was trying all day long to work out what was going on, and I finally decided that you guys are FBI secret agents staking out the two Jamaican guys downstairs who smoke more then just tobacco. But don't worry- I won't tell anyone! And I can look after Val when you eventually take down the sneaky drugs cartel."

Fang stayed silent for a few moments, simply looking at the earnest twenty year old in front of him. And then he burst into laughter. Humour filled laughs that bubbled up inside him and forced their way out gleefully.

"You know, that's the first time I've heard you laugh. I guess it feels good to get it all out in the open, huh?"

Fang wiped his brimming eyes and took a deep breath. "Adam, man, you have got to lay off the coffee."

"Thanks to you and your secret mission, I didn't even get any until lunchtime!" he huffed accusingly.

"Adam, I am not in the FBI and neither is Max. She's also not a supermodel, despite what her looks tell you. Max and I are actually… together. We lost touch a few years ago, but that doesn't matter now. I came to pick up my bag and invite you over for dinner, we're having a get together with some other friends in about an hour. Your cousin will be there too, we'd love to have you."

"Dinner? Max isn't cooking though, right? I mean, this one time I went over there and-"

"Don't worry, I won't let Max cook. But I would be really interested to hear that story later at dinner," Fang smiled wryly and followed Adam into his spare room to get his rucksack.

"Dinner sounds great! I forgot to go shopping again, and I was really worried that I would have to try that cheese again. It really did taste weird…"

Fang made for the door with his bag trying to hide his laughter. Although, some part of him didn't want to hide it- he wanted to embrace it, to show the world how happy he was. Fang wanted to laugh in the face of fate and scornfully mock it, prove just how wonderfully everything had turned out. The weight of too many years of loneliness and desperate pain had vanished. It would remain hidden and forgotten far at the back of his memory, there to remind him in the future of how lucky he was- but, ultimately, that time was over. The future was bright, and for once Fang wanted to actually laugh out loud in happy abandon.

"Hey, you going already?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, I've got a lot of colouring to catch up on- and apparently I need to be educated in the ways of Sponge Rob the Square Dance. Don't ask me what that is," Fang muttered in confusion.

"Matt! You don't know The Sponge?!" Adam shrieked.

"Should I?"

"Ugh, you have so much to learn! I'll see you in an hour then."

Fang left the apartment in a haze of happiness. He had colouring to do. Five years worth of colouring with one of the two most important people in his life. A little girl with his eyes and her mother's beauty, a little girl that was so absolutely perfect in every way that it made him want to scoop her up in his arms and never let her go. And even though he had scooped her up and twirled her round so many times in the past few hours, she still never got sick of it and her mother never got tired of watching. The sound of beautiful, feminine giggles echoed in his mind making him deliriously happy.

As he walked into the apartment, they were already sprawled out on the floor with crayons in hand. Max patted the ground beside her and secretively kissed his cheek while Val searched for colours in the big box of supplies.

"Daddy," Fang's heart swelled again, just like it did every time he heard that word. "Put your hand on my page."

"Why?" he asked ruffling her hair and scooting closer.

"I want to draw your hand beside my hand and Mommy's hand. See, I'm going to draw around your real hand, 'cause it's hard to draw hands. Can you draw hands? What colour hand do you want? Mine is purple and Mum's is blue."

"Nope, I can't draw hands as well as you can. And you can give me whatever colour hands you want, but first you have to reach the colours." Suddenly, Val found herself held up in the air looking down on her parents as she laughed. She wondered how her Dad had moved so fast.

"Daddy, put me down! I want to colour," but she could hardly speak between her high-pitched giggles.

"Fang, you're going to make her sick if you keep doing that every two minutes," Max chastised with a wide smile.

"No, I won't," he said affably. "There's someone at the door though, and Val and I are otherwise engaged so you better get it."

Max stuck out her tongue at the man lying on his back on her floor, and tickled her daughter's sides while she was suspended in the air before going over to the door.

"Holy sh-"

"Gazzy, language!" Max exclaimed.

"It **_is_ **Max!" Iggy shouted in awe. Fang winced as the sound of screaming girls filled the air, it was so high and loud that all the neighbouring dogs in a five mile radius were probably in immense pain. Trust Angel and Nudge to go nuts. They had been told the full story over the phone, but they still had to go mental now. Fang didn't bother getting up and continued making faces at his daughter.

"Dude, _what_ are you doing?" The Gasman asked.

"Fang and Val couldn't decide who made the best monster faces, feel free to referee- I gave up once they started trying to do it upside down," Max chimed in.

"Forget about Fang," Nudge joked. "We've been staring at his depressed and miserable face for the past five years- let me see my niece!"

"Yeah," Angel agreed. "I have missed out on way too much time, and I want to be the cool auntie."

Fang sat up and let Val down softly on the floor beside him. Gazzy and Iggy settled down on the couch wearing matching grins, Fang sat down beside them as Max did all the introductions in the background. He almost felt sorry for his daughter, meeting so many people in the one day must be confusing- but Val seemed to love the attention, and Fang couldn't help but enjoy feeling like an actual Flock again.

"Oh Max, she's gorgeous," Angel squealed.

"Valencia Nicole Ride, you are absolutely stunning!" Nudge gushed. "You are so pretty! And just wait till you are older- me and your Auntie Angel are going to have so much fun buying you clothes and doing your hair and make-up! All the boys are going to _love_ you when you start dating, and-"

"My daughter is not dating until she is at least thirty," Fang said seriously. "Isn't that right, sweetie?" Val nodded at him with a smile lighting up her doe eyes.

Max snorted. "That's exactly what you said about Angel."

"Angel doesn't date," Gazzy, Fang and Iggy said simultaneously.

Max and Nudge erupted into fits of laughter.

"Suuure," Angel replied with a roll of her eyes. "Of _course_ I don't date. Anyway, what's for dinner?"

"The guys can go and get take-out," Max said, as Fang stood up beside Iggy and Gazzy. Val hugged Fang's legs before he left as he swiftly kissed Max on the cheek.

Fang couldn't help but marvel at how quickly the Flock seemed to fit back together, as if nothing had ever been wrong at all. The words he had spoken so long ago drifted into his mind. _You can't function without a Leader and the void left by ours was far too great to fill. Without her there didn't seem to be a point- she was our spirit_. He had never spoken truer words, and now Maximum Ride was back- their spirit was back, the glue that held them all together.

The three men walked down the hall and out into the street, idly catching up on what had happened since they had last met. It was only when they were in the restaurant that Iggy broached the topic that Fang had hoped would have been left untouched.

"You guys… seem to be getting on really well," he began awkwardly. "Look, Fang, you know what, I'm just going to come out and say it, alright. I am so sorry, again. You kept telling me that Max was alive, and all I did was ignore you and treat you badly. We should have known better- especially me. And the worst thing is that this isn't the first time that this has happened. I've been sitting back for the last five years living my own life, and I haven't been a good friend or brother. I should have been out there with you, I should have had the faith that you did. Unfortunately, it's too late for that now, but I want to apologise and if there was any way that I could go back and change this I would."

"Iggy stop," Fang said haltingly.

"No, Fang, Iggy is right," Gazzy interrupted. "We should have been there and we shouldn't have given up. We haven't acted like your brother or your friend for a very long time, and you never did anything but try to do your best for us. You checked in on us and made sure we were safe, you sent us money and rang us every week- and all we ever did was throw it all back in your face and try to fill you with doubt. We don't deserve your forgiveness, but you deserve a lot more then an apology."

"Stay in our lives," Fang said. "Be good uncles to my daughter and stay in touch with Max and me- that's all I want. I don't feel the need for you to apologise, but if you do that for me then you can consider yourselves forgiven."

"Done. Someone needs to help you chase those five-year old boys with the toy motorbikes and cans of cola away from our precious girl!"

For the first time in a very long time, Fang grasped his brothers' hands in a sign of friendship and family strength and actually meant it.

* * *

"Max, this food is so good," Adam exclaimed. "Who did it for you?"

"Chinese take-away on the corner," Max replied dryly.

"Cool. So since I was responsible for bringing you two back together, can I come to the wedding?" he asked, grabbing a bowl of prawn crackers.

"Wedding?!" Max and Fang exclaimed in shock.

"Ohh, we could get Val to be the flower girl. I saw this really nice hair piece in a catalogue the other day, and-" Nudge began to chatter joyfully with the prospects of planning a wedding.

"Ehhh, let me interrupt for one second," Iggy cut in. "Technically, oh dearest cousin of mine, you are not responsible for bringing Max and Matt back together- that would be me. If I hadn't given Matt your address, he never would have been in this building at all."

"Yeah right, this is completely down to me," Adam argued.

"Don't get tetchy just because your mother loves me more then she loves you," Iggy teased.

Adam sighed and shook his head. "Just because my mother is charitable enough to take in her homeless nephew, suddenly she likes her own son less. Although there was this one time when I crashed her car and tried to blame Ig, which wasn't the smartest of plans since he's blind and had an alibi, but I was trying to think on the spot…"

"You crashed your Mom's car?" Max asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Aww, Max, it was hilarious! He was trying to-"

"Shut up Ig," Adam intervened with a blush. "Anyway, did I tell anyone about the really weird cheese I found in my apartment? Seriously, a freak of nature kind of cheese! I probably shouldn't have eaten it, but it's too late now. And did you know that Matt doesn't know who Spongebob Squarepants is?!"

"Ahh- correction," Fang butted in. "I didn't know who Spongebob was until today. Now I know that he lives in a pineapple under the sea."

"Speaking of living," Angel said. "Are you going to move in here, Matt? I mean, considering that you haven't had a fixed home for five years now, I think it's time you actually got an address so that we could send you a Christmas card every year."

"Nope, we're going to buy a house. Aren't we, Max?"

Max nodded brightly. "I was kind of worried about it, you know having an address and putting down roots- but we talked about it, and it's the best thing for Val and for us. There's always going to be dangers and risks out there, we just decided that we'll face them together. So we're going to go house hunting at the weekend."

Max grasped Fang's hand underneath the table. "Wow, never thought I'd say that," she said with a chuckle.

"Yup, and we're going to have lots of guest bedrooms so that we can have lots of visitors," Fang said pointedly.

"Can we get a pet?" Val asked suddenly.

"Sure, let's get a pet," Fang said with a straight-face. "Maybe swans."

"Daddy, swans aren't pets."

"Well, me and Mommy think that they're special," he said with a grin at Max.

They continued to eat, chatting animatedly together and laughing at the jokes Gazzy and Adam kept telling.

It was much later in the evening when Max and Fang started to clear away the table, telling the others to relax in the sitting room with the television and group entertainment.

Fang stood behind Max at the sink and lay his head on her shoulder while wrapping his arms around her waist. "That went well," he said softly.

"Very well," she agreed with a smile.

"Remember how you wrote that fate doesn't play by the rules?" Fang began.

"Fate can play by _our_ rules, we're in charge this time" Max said. "This is going to be forever and nothing is going to stop that."

Max turned in Fang's arms and wrapped hers around his neck. "And what if fate tries to stop it," he quizzed lightly.

"Then I'll kick fate's ass," Max said with a smile.

"Just so we're clear," Fang grinned before leaning down to capture her lips with his own.

This was forever, and no forever would ever be spent better.


	20. EXTREMELY IMPORTANT!

Hi everyone, Rach here =]

This, unfortunately, is not news of a new story- but please keep reading, because if you like my fics this is definitely very important.

I was going to post this on my profile but I didn't think many people would see it there, and I really want you guys to read this. I will probably delete it soon, but I'll leave it up for a few days or weeks so that most of you have a chance to see it. It's kind of like an author's note, I suppose.

This little message is to every single person who has read one of my stories, reviewed them, added to favourites/alerts or dropped in with PMs. I know I have said it many times before, but I don't think I can ever say it enough- **THANK YOU!!**

I'm turning _eighteen_ on the _15th__ of May_, and I was just thinking about the past year. To be honest, some parts of it weren't all that great! Maybe that was why I got so motivated to start and keep writing fanfics on this site. You guys were constantly so encouraging and inspiring, and that really does mean so so much to me. I actually can't tell you guys or express to you just how much it means! The fact that I can't write much anymore thanks to schoolwork makes me feel like such a traitor! =(

All of my reviewers are so important to me, and there really are too many of you to name but you know who you are. Some of you (you know who) have reviewed every single one of my stories in a particular category, you guys should know that you put huuuuuge smiles on my face! Sometimes it's only a few words or a single sentence, but every single review is so appreciated.

The Mortal Instruments 2009 Awards- what can I say- the fact that so many of you nominated me overwhelms and shocks me and I am honoured that you think I could even deserve to be nominated.

I myself have a dedication to everyone on fanfic who has reviewed, added to alerts and favourites and read my stories and nominated me for awards on my Bebo page to show everyone how great you guys are =] But let's be honest, _great_ is a massive understatement!

I would also like to give a personal shout out to the most fantastic girl in the world, who goes by the name of **Aine** (_XxAinexX_ she is in my favourite authors on my profile) She is a wonderful, talented writer and the best friend anyone could ask for- seriously, I should bow down before her but I'm too sarcastic and I would laugh too much! She would probably tell me to cop on anyway, but she is truly amazing and deserves an entire book written about her not just a little paragraph here. =]

So yeah, that is the end of my soppy and emotional address to you all. I guess I'm just getting nostalgic as I approach the big One-Eight!! As my younger cousin (aged 16 lol!!) told me today: you're getting old Rach!! I guess reminiscing and nostalgia come with age!! Lol =P

Once again, thank you all for being so unbelievably fantastic! You have made my day, my week and my month on so many occasions by following my stories- yeah, you guys pretty much made my year of being seventeen at times! So thank you =] I really can never say it enough!

Raven-Rach xxxx


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